
Him, fast sleeping, soon he found 
In labyt inth of many a round, self-rolled. 



Page 213. 



anaa.<svi>rfi# 






THE POETICAL WORKS 



John Milton 



REPRINTED FROM THE ORIGINAL EDITION, 



AND CONTAINING 



NUMEROU S EXPLANATORY NOTES. 



WITH MEMOIR 



DAVID MASSON, M. A., LL. D., 
1 

Author cf "THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JOHN MILTON.' 



THE ARUNDEL PRINT. NEW YORK. 






COPTRIGHT, 18 SO, 

BY 

THE ARUNDEI4 TBINT. 



3S$797 



d^ ^ 



s- 



CONTENTS. 



Life of Milton, ix 



PARADISE LOST; 



Book L 

IL 

IIL 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 



VIL 
VIII. 
IX. 
X. 



XI. 
XII. 



PARADISE REGAINED; 



Book I. 
" II. 
" III. 
" IV. 



I 
28 
60 

83 
114 
141 
168 
188 
207 
242 
276 
303 



323 

339 
355 
369 

389 



SAMSON AGONISTES 

EARLY POEMS: 

On the Death of a Fair Infant . . '.. , 445 

At a Vacation Exercise ........... 448 

ODES: 

On the morning of Christ's Nativity 452 

The Hymn ............. 453 

Upon the Circumcision 461 

The Passion 462 

On Time . . 464 

At a Solemn ^lusic 464 

Song on May Morning . ' 465 



■^ 



4" 



^ 



^ 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



Odes — Continued : page 

Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester ....... 466 

" on W. Shakespeare 468 

On the University Carrier . . ........ 469 

Another on the same ... ....... 469 

L'AIlegro • . 471 

II Penseroso ............. 475 

Arcades, 481 

Comus, ............. 486 

Lycidas . . . . . . - . . ■ • . .5^8 

SONNETS: 

To the Nightingale 525 

On his having arrived at the age of twenty-three ...... 525 

Canzone, ............. 527 

When the Assault was Intended to the City ....... 529 

To a Virtuous Young Lady ......... 530 

To the Lady Margaret Ley .......... 530 

On the Detraction which followed upon my Treatises .... 531 

On the Same ............ 532 

On the New Forc-es of Conscience under the Long Parliament . . 532 

To Mr. II. Lawes on his Airs 533 

On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine ...... 534 

On the Lord General Fairfax 535 

To the Lord General Cromwell ........ 535 

To Sir Henry Vane, the Younger ........ 536 

On the Late Massacre in Piedmont ........ 537 

On his Blindness . ........... 537 

To Mr. Lawrence ........... 538 

To Cyriack Skinner ........... 538 

To the Same ..... . ..... . 539 

On his Deceased Wife ........... 540 

TRANSLATIONS : 

The Fifth Ode of Horace. Lib. i 541 

Psalm LXX'X. 542 

" LXXXI 544 

" LXXXII 546 

LXXXIII 547 

" LXXXIV 549 

" LXXXV 551 

" LXXXVI 553 

LXXXVII 554 

LXXXVIII 555 

"1 557 

"II 558 



^ 



4 



^ 



<b 



CONTENTS. 



Vll 



Translations — Continued 



Psalr 



III. 

IV. 

V. . 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 



SCRAPS FROM THE PROSE WRITINGS: 

From — Of Reformation Touching Church Discipline 
" The Apology for Smectymnuus 

" Areopogitica ...... 

" Tetrachordon ..... 

" The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates . 

" The History of Britain 



LATIN POEMS: 

De Auctore Testimonia .... 
Elegiarum Liber : 

Elegia Prima ..... 

" Secunda . . 

" Tertia 

" Quarta ..... 

" Quinta ..... 

" Sexta ...... 

" Septima ..... 

Epigrammata ...... 

Sylvarum Liber ..... 

Psalm CXIV 

Philosophus ad Regem Queudam 

In Effigiei Ejus Sculptorem .... 

Ad Salsillum Poetam Romanuni tEgrotantem 
Mansus ........ 

Epitaphium Damonis .... 

Ad Joannem Rousium ..... 

In Salmash Hundredam .... 

In Salmasium 



559 
560 

561 
562 
563 
565 



566 

566 

567 
567 
567 
567 



570 

574 
577 
577 
579 
583 
587 
590 
593 
596 
612 
613 
613 
613 

frS 
618 
624 
627 
627 



^ 



4 



s- ^ 



MEMOIR 'OF MILTON. 



BREAD STREET, CHEAPSIDE, OLD LONDON. 
1608 — 1625 : (p/af. I — 17. 

Born in Bread Street, Cheapside, on Friday, December 9, 1608, in a house 
known as "The Spread Eagle," and baptized in Allhallows Church in the same 
street, on the 20th of the same December, Milton was for the first sixteen years 
of his life a denizen of the verj' heart of Old London. 

His father, John Milton, originally from Oxfordshire, was a prosperous 
London scrivener, and owner of the Spread Eagle, which served him both 
as residence and as place of business. As to the name of Milton's mother 
there has hitherto been some uncertainty. One tradition calls her Sarah 
'Bradshaw, and another Sarah Caston ; and yet in the register of Allhallows 
Parish, Bread Street, there is this distinct record : " The xxiind daye of 
February, A°. 1610 [1610-11], was buried in this parishe Mrs. Ellen Jefiferys, 
the mother of Mr. John Mylton's wyffe of this parishe." The Mrs. Ellen 
Jeffer}-s who seems thus to have lived with the scrivener and his wife till two 
years after the birth of her grandchild, the future poet, is ascertained to have 
been the wudow of a Paul Jeffray or Jeffreys, citizen and Merchant Taylor of 
London, who had lived in St. Swithin's Parish, but was dead in 1602. She had 
another daughter, Margaret Jeffray or Jeffreys, who was married in 1602, at the 
age of twenty, to a " William Truelove, gentleman, of the parish of Hatfield 
Peverell, in the county of Essex, widower," afterwards designated as "ot 
Blakenham upon the Hill, co. Suffolk," and heard of as owning various 
properties in Essex and Herts. At the time of that marriage the widow's 
consent to it was signified through her son-in-law, the bride's brother-in-law, 
John Milton, of Allhallows, Bread Street.* 

At the death of the widowed grandmother Jefferys in Februarj', i6io-ir, 
the Bread Street household consisted of the scrivener, his wife, and two 
children — Anne and John. Three children were subsequently born ; of whom 
only one, Christopher, seven years younger than John, outlived infancy. Anne, 
John, and Christopher, therefore, are to be remembered, and in that order, as 
the surviving children. 

* With the exception of the burial entry of Mrs. Ellen Jefferys in the register of Allhallows, the 
documents that have yielded the above particulars of Milton's maternal pedigree have been recently 
discovered by the research of Colonel J. L. Chester, a distinguished American antiquary and genealogist, 
living in London. 

^ -^4^ 



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^ 



X MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

The first sixteen years of Milton's life were the last sixteen of the reign of 
James I. Amid the events of those sixteen years, and the growing discontent 
of the mass of the English people with the rule of James and his minister 
Buckingham, Milton passed his boyhood. He was most carefully educated, on 
the principles of a pious Puritan household of superior means and tastes, the 
head of which was himself distinguished as a musical composer. To be 
remembered, as having shared with this excellent father the honour of Milton's 
early education, are the Scottish preacher Thomas Young, his first domestic 
tutor, and the two Alexander Gills, father and son, respectively head-master 
and under-master of St. Paul's School, close to Bread Street. At this public 
school Milton was for some years a day-scholar; and here he first became 
acquainted with the young half-Italian Charles Diodati, his friendship with 
whom he has made touchingly and everlastingly memorable in his Letters and 
his Latin poetry. He was still, it seems, a scholar at St. Paul's when his sister, 
Anne Milton, who was a year or two older than himself, married (1624) a Mr. 
Edward Phillips, from Shrewsbury, second clerk in the important Government 
office called the Crown Office in Chancery. As the married couple took up 
their residence in the Strand, near Charing Cross, Milton and his younger 
brother Christopher were then the only children left in the paternal home. 

From his childhood Milton was not only a ceaseless student and insatiable 
reader, but also a writer of verses. The earliest preserved specimens of his 
Muse, however, belong to the year 1624, his last year at St. Paul's School. 
They are : 

A Paraphrase on Psalm cxiv. 
" " " " cxxxvi. 

CAMBRIDGE. 

1625 — 1632: cctat. \y — 24. 

If we deduct the two Psalm-paraphrases, which belong to the last year of 
the reign of James L, Milton's literary life may be said to begin exactly with 
the reign of Charles L 

That king succeeded his father on the 27th of March, 1625. Six weeks 
before that event, z. e. February 12, 1624-5, Milton, at the age of sixteen years 
and two months, had been entered in the grade of a " Lesser Pensioner " on 
the books of Christ's College, Cambridge ;. and his matriculation in the Register 
of the University is dated April 9, 1625, when Charles had been on the throne 
a fortnight. From that time to July, 1632, or for a period of more than seven 
years, Milton resided habitually in Cambridge, though with frequent visits, in 
vacation and at other times, to London and his father's house. The rooms he 
occupied in Christ's College are still pointed out. 

When Milton was at Cambridge, the total number of persons on the books 
of all the sixteen colleges of the University was about 2,900. Christ's College 
had about 265 members on its books. The master of the college v.-as Dr. 
Thomas Bainbrigge ; and among the fellows were Joseph Meade, remembered 



s -<b 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xi 

as a commentator on the Apocalypse, Mr. William Chappell, who was Milton's 
first tutor, and became afterwards an Irish bishop, and Mr. Nathaniel Tovey, 
to whose tutorship Milton was transferred, and who was afterwards Rector of 
Lutterworth in Leicestershire. Among Milton's fellow students at Christ's 
were Edward King, afterwards commemorated as Lycidas, John Cleveland, 
afterwards the well-known satirist, and Henry More, afterwards the Cambridge 
Platonist. They were all Milton's juniors; and, indeed, More entered the 
college in Milton's last year. Milton's brother Christopher joined him at 
Christ's, in February 1630-1, and was put under Tovey's tutorship. Among 
the eminent heads of colleges, when Milton's academic course began, were 
Dr. John Preston of Emanuel, Dr. Samuel Collins of King's, Dr. Samuel 
Ward of Sidney, Sussex, and John Gostlin, M. D., of Caius. The Public 
Orator of the University was George Herbert, the poet ; Andrew Downcs, of 
St. John's, was Regius Professor of Greek ; Robert Metcalfe, of the same 
college, was Regius Professor of Hebrew ; Thomas Thornton, also of St. John's, 
was Lecturer in Logic ; and Abraham Whelock, the Orientalist, was University 
Librarian. Among the Fellows or more advanced graduates of the different 
colleges were about ten men who afterwards rose to be Bishops or Archbishops, 
others who rose to be heads of colleges, and some who became noted as Puritan 
divines. Contemporaries of Milton at Cambridge, only a little his seniors in 
their respective colleges, were the Church historian Thomas Fuller, of Queen's, 
and the poet Edmund Waller, of King's, and Thomas Randolph, of Trinity. 
Jeremy Taylor, who was a native of Cambridge, entered Caius College, as a 
pauper scholar, in August, 1626, eighteen months after Milton had entered 
Christ's. 

Although Milton never looked back on Cambridge with any great affection, 
and although it is certain that in the beginning of his undergraduateship he was 
unpopular among the rougher men in his own college (where he was nicknamed 
" The Lady," on account of his fair complexion, feminine and graceful appear- 
ance, and a certain haughty delicacy in his tastes and morals), there is, never- 
theless, the most positive evidence that his career at the University was one of 
industrious and persevering success, and that, even before the close of his 
undergraduateship, he had beaten down all opposition, and gained a reputation 
quite extraordinary. " Performed the Collegiate and Academical Exercises to 
" the admiration of all, and was esteemed to be a virtuous and sober person, 
"yet not to be ignorant of his own parts," is Anthony Wood's summary of the 
information he had received on the subject. He took his B. A. degree, at the 
proper time, in January, 1628-9, ^'^^ ^^e M. A. degree, also at the proper time, 
in July, 1632. On each occasion, with the other graduates, he went through 
the formality of signing Articles of Religion implying faith in the constitution, 
worship, and doctrines of the Church of England ; and on the second occasion 
his signature " Joannes Millon " stands at the head of the list of twenty-seven 
who so signed from Christ's College. This looks as if the foremost place in his 
college was then unanimously accorded to him. By that time, I should say, he 
was recognised as without an equal among his coevals in the University. 

^ ^ ^ -^ 



a— — — ^ 



xii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

The reputation won by Milton during his seven years at Cambridge was 
doubtless due in part to his personal impressiveness in walks and talks with 
select companions, and in all those daily chances of intercourse between seniors 
and juniors, in hall or in college-rooms, which University life affords. There 
were, however, the more formal opportunities of those scholarly displays called 
by Wood "the Collegiate and Academical Exercises," viz. : the periodical Latin 
debates and declamations, in College or in the Public Schools of the University, 
which formed so conspicuous a part of the old system of Cambridge training. 
Seven specimens of Milton's ability in such things have been preserved under 
the title of Prohisiones Qucsdam Oratorice, and are interesting both as revela- 
tions of Milton's own character and habits of intellect at this period, and also 
as curious glimpses of old Cambridge life. There are preserved also four Latin 
Familiar Epistles written by Milton during the Cambridge period — two of them 
to his former preceptor, Thomas Young, and two to Alexander Gill the younger, 
his former teacher at St. Paul's School. More important products of the seven 
Cambridge years, however, were the poems, in English or in Latin, written at 
intervals. Here is a list of these in chronological order, the more important 
printed in capitals, and the Latin distinguished from the English by italics ; — 

Ox THE Death of a Fair Infant. 1626. 

Ad CaROLVM DlODATUM {Elegia Prima). 1626. 

In obituiit Pncstilis Wintoiiiensis {EUgia Tertia). 1626. 

In obiliim Pficsulis Eliensis (among the Sylva). 1626. 

In obitwn Praconis Acadcmici Canlabrigiensis {Elegia Secunda). 1626. 

In obitum Procancellarii Medici (among the Sylva:). 1626. 

/.V QUINTUM A^OVEMBRIS (among the Syha:). 1626. 

//* Prodiiioncin Bombardicam ; In Eandcm ; In Eandem ; In Eandem ; In In- 

ventorcm Boiuhardie (annexed to the Elcgiaritin Liber). 
Ad Thomain ynniiim, PnTceptorcm Siniin {^Elegia Quarto). 1627. 
" Nondiim blandit tiias" &c. {Elegia Septimd). 1628. 
NaTURAM KON PATf SEmu.M (among the Sylviv). 1628. 
At a Vacation Exercise in the College. 1628. 
De Idcd PlatonicA quemadmodtim Aristoteles intelltxit (among tlie Sylvit). 
In Adventiun Veris {Elegia Quintd). 1628-g. 
On the Morning of Christ's Nativity. 1629. 

Ad CaROLUM DIODATUM, RURI COM.MORANTEM {Elcgia Sexto). 1629. 
Upon the Circumcision. 
The Passion. 
On Time. 

At a Solemn Music. 
Song on May Morning. 
On Shakespeare. 1630. 
On the University Carrier. 1630-I. 
Another on the Same. 1630-1. 

An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester. 1631. 
Sonnet to the Nightingale. 
Sonnet on Arriving at tup. Age of TvVENTY-three. Dec, 1631, 

d^ ___ . ^ 



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MEMOIR OF MILTON. xiii 

From these pieces may be gathered many particulars of Milton's life and the 
nature of his occupations during his seven years at Cambridge. If published 
in a little volume in 1632, they would have given young Milton a place of some 
distinction among contemporary poets. With the exception, however, oi Natu- 
ram non pati Senium, of which printed copies were made at Cambridge for 
an academic purpose, and the lines " On Shakespeare," which appeared anony- 
mously in the Second Folio Edition of Shakespeare, published in 1632, all the 
pieces appear to have remained in manuscript. 

The Sonnet which closes the list of the Cambridge pieces is especially inter- 
esting. When Milton went to Cambridge, he had been destined, by himself and 
his friends, for the Church ; but the seven years of his residence there had 
entirely changed his purpose. This was owing, in part, to the great change 
that had occurred in the political condition of England. Charles I., married in 
May, 1625, to the French princess Henrietta-Maria, had adopted a policy in 
Church and State compared with which his father's efforts towards Absolutism 
had been mild. Having quarrelled successively with four Parliaments, and dis- 
missed the last of them with anger and insult in March, 1628-9, he had resolved 
to have nothing more to do with Parliaments, but to govern in future by his own 
authority through ministers responsible only to himself. England was in the 
fourth year of this Rcig7t of Thorough, as it has been called, when Milton's 
course at the University came to an end. Since the assassination of the Duke 
of Buckingham in August, 1628, Charles's chief advisers and ministers had been 
Laud, Wentworth, Cottington, and a few other select Lords of his Privy Coun- 
cil. In ecclesiastical matters. Laud, Bishop of London since 1628, and with the 
Archbishopric of Canterbury in prospect, was single and paramount. Under 
his vigilant supervision there had been going on, in all the dioceses of England, 
that systematic repression and even persecution of Calvinistic Theology and all 
forms of Puritan opinion and practice, and that equally systematic promotion 
and encouragement of Arminian Theology, the rights of high Prelacy, and a 
strict and florid ceremonial of worship, which had already, as the Puritans 
thought, undone all that was essential in the English Reformation, and brought 
the Church of England back into the shadow of the Church of Rome. Nor did 
there seem any hope of deliverance. Laud's supremacy in England seemed to 
be growing surer and surer eveiy day ; Wentworth, as Viceroy of Ireland, was 
to impose the same system on that country ; even Scotland, though an inde- 
pendent kingdom, was to be reclaimed, as soon as Laud should be at leisure, 
from the meagre half-episcopacy which was all that King James had persuaded 
her to adopt, and brought into conformity with Laud's ideal of a Church. Un- 
able to endure this state of things, many of the bolder Puritans had gone into 
exile in Holland or had emigrated to America, while those that remained at 
home, forming a large mass of the population of England, lay in a dumb agony 
of discontent, sighing for a Parliament, but not daring to mutter the word. 
With these Milton was in sympathy. Whatever he had intended in 1625, it was 
clear to him in 1632 that he could not take orders in the Church of England. 



a- ^ -^ 



xiv MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

This necessarily involved also the abandonment of all idea of continued resi- 
dence in the University in a Fellowship or for other chances. 

HORTON, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. 

1632 — 1638 : (etat. 24 — 30. 

On leaving the University, in July, 1632, Milton went to reside at Horton, in 
Buckinghamshire, a small village near Windsor, and about tvi^enty miles from 
London, where his father, who had meanwhile retired from business, had taken 
a country house. At first there seems to have been some gentle remonstrance 
on his father's part 0:1 his abandonment of the Church and his disinclination to 
any other profession ; but very soon the excellent man, whose trust in his son 
was boundless, acquiesced generously in what was proposed. That was that 
Milton should devote himself henceforward exclusively to study, speculation, 
and literature. The tenor of the five years and eight months which he spent at 
Horton is, accordingly, thus described by himself: "At my father's country 
" residence, whither he had retired to pass his old age, I was wholly intent, 
" through a period of absolute leisure, on a steady perusal of the Greek and 
" Latin writers, but still so that occasionally I exchanged the country for the 
" city, either for the purpose of buying books, or for that of learning anything 
" new in Mathematics or ii\ Music, in which I then took delight." From this 
succinct account we should not gather that it was also during those five sum- 
mers and winters, passed mainly in the flat, verdant, well-wooded and well- 
watered scenery about Horton, with the towers of Windsor in view, that Milton 
composed the finest and most classic of his minor English poems. Such, how- 
ever, is the fact. Here is the list : — 

Ad Patrcm (among the Syk'cr). 1632 ? 

L'Allkgro. 

Il Penseroso. 

Arcades: Part of an Entertainment at Harefield. 1633 or earlier? 

CoMUS : A Masque presented at Ludlow Castle. 1634. 

Greek translation of Psalm CXIV. (among the Sylvcv). 1634. 

LvciDAS. Nov., 1637. 

The admission of Milton to the W. A. degree at Oxford in 1635 may, however, 
be noted here. Three of his Latin Familiar Epistles, it ought also be added, 
belong to the period. One of these (December 4, 1634) is again to his former 
teacher, Alexander Gill the younger ; the other two (both dated September, 
1637) are to his friend Charles Diodati. In the last he speaks of leaving Horton 
permanently, and taking chambers in London. The intention was not fulfilled. 
He went back to Horton to write his Lycidas there (so it may be guessed), and 
to remain there till April, 1638. Three incidents mark the closing months of 
his Horton life. One was the appearance in 1637, with his permission, but 
anonymously, of a printed edition of his Coinus by itself at the charge of his 
friend, Henry Lawes, the musical composer. Another was his introduction, 
early in 1638, to the celebrated Sir Henry Wotton, Provost of Eton, not far 



^ 



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C7 



MEATOIR OF MILTON. xv 

from Horton. The third was the actual appearance of his Lycidas, with his 
initials, "J. M.," at the end of a collection cf obituary poems in Latin, Greek, 
and English, in memory of Edward King, contributed by thirty-two friends of 
the deceased, and printed at the Cambridge University press. But an event 
earlier than any of these, and which had already made Horton a sadder home 
to Milton than it had been, was the death of his mother. She died at Horton, 
April 3, 1637, and was buried in the old church there. A visit to Horton any 
summer's day, to see the simple stone that covers her grave, and then, after 
having the spot near the church pointed out to one where the house of Milton's 
father stood, to stroll among the meadows and pollards by the banks of the 
sluggish Colne, where Milton must have so often walked and mused, may be 
recommended to lovers of Literature and English History. 

The quiet time at Horton bringing Milton from the twenty-fourth to the 
thirtieth year of his age, was a continuation of the Reigti of TJiorough in the 
British Islands. Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury since 1633, was still crashing 
Calvinism and Puritanism in England ; Wentworth was ruling Ireland with 
a rod of iron ; and the business of re-shaping the rough semi-Episcopal Kirk 
of Scotland into a more perfect practical representation of Laud's ideal Beauty 
of Holiness had been steadily in progress. Precisely in this business of the 
Scottish Kirk, however, had the policy of Thorough struck against a rock of 
opposition. In July, 1637, the Scots had risen in riot and revolt against the 
attempt to introduce Laud's new Scotch Liturgy; and in March, 1638, the 
leaders of the Scottish people of all ranks, Nobles, Lairds, Burgesses and Clergy, 
leagued themselves for open resistance to the death, and swore their famous 
Covenant. The news ran through England, stirring strange hopes in the 
hearts of the Puritans. 

ITALIAN JOURNEY. 

April, 1638 — August, 1639: at at. 30 — 31. 

The Scottish Covenant ("the damnable Covenant," as Charles called it) 
was the last word in all English mouths when Milton, in April, 1638, set out 
on that journey to Italy of which he had long had dreams, and to which his 
father had at last given consent. He took one English man servant wilh him. 
His father meanwhile was to live on at Horton, wliere his younger son 
Christopher, already a married man, though only passing his terms for the Bar, 
was to keep him company, with his newly wedded wife, Thomasine Webber, of 
London. 

Taking letters of introduction with him, one of which was from Sir Henry 
Wotton, Milton arrived in Paris. Here he spent some days, receiving great 
attention from Lord Scudamore, English joint-ambassador with the Earl of 
Leicester, at the Court of Louis XIII. He specially mentions an interview 
procured for him by Lord Scudamore with the learned Dutchman, Hugo 
Grotius, then residing in Paris as ambassador from Sweden. From Paris he 
proceeded to Italy by way of Nice. After visiting Genoa, Leghorn and Pisa, he 

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xvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

reached Florence. Here he remained about two months (August — September, 
1638), enchanted with the beauties and antiquities of the famous city, and 
forming' acquaintanceships with many of the wits and scholars then living in it. 
Seven Florentines, most of them young men, leaders in the chief Academies 
or literary cluljs of Florence, are particularly named by him as friends, whose 
merits and whose courttfsies to himself he would never forget. These were 
Jacopo Caddi, Carlo Dati, Pietro Frescobaldi, Agostino Coltellini, Benedetto 
Buommattei.ValerioChimentelli, and Antonio Francini, They have all left some 
traces cf themselves in Italian literary history, though some of them are now 
best remembered by the happy accident of their contact with Milton. It was 
either in Florence, or in its close neighborhood, that he also " found and visited 
" the famous Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition for thinking in 
" Astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought." 
From Florence, through Siena, Milton went to Rome. His stay here extended 
over nearly two months more (October — November, 1638) ; and here again, 
besides musing amid the ruins of the Eternal City, seeing the galleries and 
other sights, and being present at a concert in the palace of Cardinal Francesco 
Barberini, where he heard Leonora Baroni sing, he enjoyed the society of the 
literary clubs or Academies. He made especial acquaintance with Lucas Holste 
or Holstenius, a learned German, settled in Rome as secretary to Cardinal 
Barberini, and one of the librarians of the Vatican, and also with Alessandro 
Cherubini, Giovanni Salzilli, and a certain more obscure Selvaggi. Leaving 
Rome, in company with " a certain Eremite Friar," he spent some little time 
(November — December, 1638) in Naples. Here, through his travelling com- 
panion, he was introduced to the great man of the place, the venerable Giovanni 
Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa, then nearly eighty years of age. From 
Naples it was his intention to cross over into Sicily and thence to extend his 
tour into Greece ; but " the sad news of civil war in England " determined him 
to return, "inasmuch," he says, "as I thought it base to be travelling at my 
" ease for intellectual culture while my fellow countrymen at home were fighting 

"for liberty." The news that had reached Milton in Naples, however, was 

not quite that of civil war in England itself, but only of such a course of events 
in Scotland as seemed to make civil war inevitable. The Covcnajtt having 
been adopted all but universally by the population of Scotland, Charles had been 
obliged to temporize so far as to permit the meeting of a General Assembly of 
the Kirk at Glasgow for the consideration of affairs ; and at this Assembly 
(Nov. 21 — Dec. 20, 1638) the result of the consideration of affairs had been 
defiance to Charles and Laud in every particular. Not only had the recent 
ecclesiastical innovations been condemned, but all the Scottish Bishops had 
been deposed and disgraced, Episcopacy of every kind had been declared at an 
end in Scotland, and the Kirk and nation had returned absolutely to the old 
Presbyterian system of Knox. To punish the Scots for such audacity Charles 
was certainly levying forces in England and Ireland, so that in a sense civil 
war in Britain had actually begun. It was probably the receipt of much 

^fe ^ 



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MEMOIR OF MILTON. xvii 

more correct information that made Milton's homeward journey more leisurely 
than he purposed when he left Naples. He spent, at all events, a second two 
months in Rome (January — February, 1639), going about freely, and also talking 
freely, though warned, he says, that the English Jesuits in the city were on the 
watch to entrap him into some danger from the Papal police ; and he also spent 
a second two months in Florence (February— April, 1639), where his Florentine 
friends were rejoiced at his reappearance. From Florence he made an excur- 
sion to Lucca ; after which, crossing the Apennines, and passing through 
Bologna and Ferrara, he came to Venice. He spent one month in that city 
(May, 1639) ; whence, having despatched to England by sea the books he had 
collected in Italy, he made his way, by Verona and Milan, and over the Pennine 
Alps, to Geneva. Here he passed a week or two (June, 1639), once more 
among Protestants, and conversing daily with the theologian Dr. Jean Diodati, 
the uncle of his friend Charles. Thence his route through France took him 
again to Paris ; and early in August, 1639, he was back in England. 

Milton's fifteen or sixteen months of foreign travel and residence contributed 
but few additions to the list of his writings. Besides two Latin Familiar 
Epistles, written at Florence, one to the Flprentine grammarian Buommattei 
(September 10, 1638), and one to Holstenius, at Rome (March 30, 1639), we 
have to note only the following : 

Ad Leonoram Roma: canentein (three pieces annexed to the Elegiaruin Liber). 

1638. 
Ad Sahillum, Poetatn Romanum, ccgrotantcm (among the Sylvcc). 1638. 
M ANSI'S (among the Sylv<i). 1638. 
Five Italian Sonnets, zvith a Canzone. 1639 ? 

BACK AT H.ORTON AND IN LONDON : LODGINGS IN ST. BRIDE'S CHURCH- 
YARD, FLEET STREET. 

1639 — 1640: (Xtat '^l — 32. 

At Horton, where Milton found all well, there had been born in his absence 
a little nephew, the first child of Christopher Milton and his young wife. The 
infant, however, had died and been buried five months before (March 26, 1639). 

Another death that had happened in Milton's absence was that of his friend, 
Charles Diodati. Milton had vaguely heard of the fact while abroad ; but not 
till his return did he learn the full particulars. Till now, the exact place and 
date of the death have eluded research ; but, while I am writing this Memoir, 
I am in receipt of the long desired information. " Charles Diodati," I am in- 
formed by Colonel Chester, whose contributions to our knowledge of Milton's 
family history I have already had occasion to acknowledge, " was buried at St. 
"Anne, Blackfriars, London, 27 Aug., 1638. The entry in the Register is 
" simply 'Mr. Charles Deodate, from Mr. Dollam's.' Seventeen days before, 
" viz., 10 Aug., 1638, was also buried there ' Mrs. Philadelphia Deodate, from 
"Mr. Dollam's.' On the 29th' of June, 1638, was baptised 'Richard, son of 
" John and Isabell Deodate ; ' and on the 23d of June in the same year was 



^ 



d3 "^ -^ 



xviii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

" buried Isabell, wife io JoJm Deodate.' These are all the entries of the name 
" that occur in the Register of St. Anne, Blackfriars." The interpretation of 
these records is as follows : — When Milton had gone abroad, he had left his 
friend, the young physician Charles Diodati, living in lodgings with a sister of 
his, called Philadelphia, in the house of a Mr. Dollam in Blackfriars, near the 
house of their married brother, John Diodati, and therefore at some little dis- 
tance from the house of their father, the naturalized Italian physician, Dr. Theo- 
dore Diodati, in Little St. Bartholomew, whose recent second marriage in his 
old age seems to have somewhat alienated from him these grown-up children 
by his first wife. Milton had left all three well in Blackfriars ; but in June, 
1638, only two months after he had set out on his foreign tour, John Diodati 
had lost his wife in childbirth, and in August, 1638, when he was in Florence 
for the first time, and little dreaming of any such calamity, his friend, Charles 
Diodati, had been carried off by some epidemic of which his sister also had been 
a victim, and both had been buried from Mr. Dollam's house. 

There w-as no more profound private feeling in all Milton's life than that 
which he experienced in the loss of Charles Diodati. He gave expression to it 
in that Latin pastoral of lament which he wrote immediately after his return to 
England (probably at Horton), and which deserves here to stand by itself: 

EfitAPHWM Da.WOjVIS (among the Sy/vcs). 1639. 

Not long after Milton's return to England, the household at Horton was 
broken up. The father, with Christopher Milton and his wife, remained at 
Horton, indeed, to as late as August, 1640, Christopher having been called to 
the Bar of the Iniier Temple January 26, 1639-40 ; but soon afterwards Chris- 
topher, his wife, and a second child, born at Horton, went to live at Reading, 
the father accompanying them. Some time before that removal (probably in 
the winter of 1639-40), Milton had taken lodgings in London, "in St. Bride's 
"Churchyard, Fleet Street, at the house of one Russel, a tailor." consenting at 
the same time to an arrangement which can hardly have added to his comfort. 
His only surviving sister, whom we saw married to Mr. Edward Phillips of the 
Crown Office in 1624, was no longer Mrs. Phillips. Her first husband had died 
in 1631 ; and, after some time of widowhood, she married his successor in the 
Crown Office, Mr. Thomas Agar. There had been left her, however, two 
young boys by the first marriage — Edward Phillips and John Phillips. The 
younger of these (probably his godson), aged only nine years, Milton now took 
wholly into his charge ; while the elder, only about a year older, went daily, from 
his mother's house, near Charing Cross, to the lodging in St. Bride's Church- 
yard, for the benefit also of his uncle's lessons. And so, teaching his two young 
nephews, meditating literary projects, and looking round him on public affairs, 
Milton found himself in the famous year 1640. 

What a year that was! In the previous year there had been the First 
Bishops War — /. e., the first war of Charles for restoration of Episcopacy 
among the Scots. It had ended in collapse on the King's side. Charles had 

^ ^ -^ 



S- -Qy 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xix 

advanced to the Scottish border with a reluctant English army ; but, met there 
by an army of the Scottish Covenanters, he had not risked a battle, but had 
agreed to terms, granting the Scots their Presbyterian Kirk, and substantially 
all else they asked (June i8, 1639). That war, therefore, had been begun and 
ended while Milton was still abroad. But Charles had again broken with the 
Scots, and resolved on their subjugation and chastisement. In his straits for 
money and means for that purpose he had even ventured, after eleven years of 
uninterrupted absolutism, to call another English Parliament. That Parliament, 
which met April 13, 1640, proved as stubbornly Puritan as its predecessors, and, 
instead of yielding supplies against the Scots, with whom it was in secret 
sym.pathy, fell on the question of English grievances. It was, therefore, dis- 
missed, after little more than a fortnight (May 5), and is remembered as the 
Short Fa7'liavicnt. Milton, who had been observing all this, with the feelings 
of an English Puritan, then saw Charles plunge, nevertheless, with resources 
otherwise raised, into iho. Second Bishops' IVar. In August, 1640, he was at 
York, with the Irish Viceroy Wentworth, now Earl of Strafford, in his company, 
on his way to Scotland, and with an English army between him and the 
doomed country. But the Scots did not wait this time on their Own side of the 
border. They invaded England, August 20 ; they beat a detachment of the 
English at Newburn, near Newcastle, August 28 ; they entered that town, 
August 29 ; and they spread themselves thence over the northern counties. 
With the Puritans of England all in sympathy with them, and welcoming their 
invasion rather than resenting it ; they had thus, by one bold push, and but 
small effort besides, utterly checked the King. His army disorganized and 
deserting he summoned a Great Council of Peers to meet at York, September 24, 
and help him in his negotiation with the Scots ; but some of the leading Peers 
themselves petitioning for a Parliament, and petitions to the same effect arriving 
from the city of London, he was obliged to yield. A preliminary treaty with 
the Scots, agreed upon by commissioners of the two nations, was signed by 
him at York, October 27 ; and thence he hastened to London, to open the 
new Parliament. It was to be known as the Lonj Parliament, the most 
famous Parliament in the annals of England. It met November 3, 1640. 

ALDERSGATE STREET, LONDON. 
1640 — 1645 • <^t<^t- 32 — 37. 

The lodgings in St. Bride's Churchyard, Fleet Street, were but a temporary 
arrangement. "Looking round," says Milton, "where best I could, in the 
"midst of affairs so disturbed and fluctuating, for a place to settle in, I hired a 
" house in the city sufficiently large for myself and books." His nephew, 
Edward Phillips, who soon went to be a fellow-boarder in the new house with 
his younger brother John, describes it more particularly as "a pretty garden- 
" house in Aldersgate Street, at the end of an entry, and, therefore, the fitter 
" for his turn by reason of the privacy, besides that there are few streets in 
" London more free from noise than that." Aldersgate Street is very different 



s- -e, 



XX MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

now, and not a vestige of Milton's house remains. It stood at the back of that 
part of the street on the right hand as you go from St. Martin's-le-Grand, 
where there is now Maidenhead Court. 

The Aldersgate Street house, which Milton entered some time in 1640, prob- 
* ably before the meeting of the Long Parliament, was to be a very memorable 
one in his biography. "There, in tolerable comfort," he says, "I betook 
" myself to my interrupted studies, trusting the issue of public affairs to 
" God in the first place, and to those to whom the people had committed that 
"charge." In other words, his hope was that now at last he might begin in real 
earnest that life of sustained literary exertion in his own English speech, after a 
higher and nobler fashion than England had heretofore known, to which he had 
secretly pledged himself. Especially, during his Italian journey, he had been 
revolving the project of some one great English poem, to be begun on his 
return, and to be his occupation through as many years as might be necessary. 
As we learn from his poem to Manso, and still more distinctly from his 
Epitaphium Damoiiis, an epic on the subject of Arthur, involving the whole 
cycle of Arthurian or ancient British Legends, was the scheme that had 
principally fascinated him. Within the first year after his return, however, the 
Arthurian subject had been set aside, and Milton's mind, weighing and 
balancing the comparative advantages of the epic form and the stately tragedy 
of the Greeks with its lyrics and choruses, was at sea among a great number 
of possible subjects, suitable for either, collected from Biblical History and the 
History of Britain before the Conquest. Paradise Lost, in the form of a 
tragedy, was already the favorite ; but all was uncertain. To end this un- 
certainty, by actually choosing a subject and setting to work, was the business 
which Milton, while daily teaching his young nephews, and showing them " an 
example of hard study and spare diet," had prescribed for himself in Aiders- 
gate Street. 

Alas ! it had to be postponed, and for a longer series of years than could 
have been anticipated. Milton, at this juncture of his life, was whirled into 
politics ; and for nearly twenty years (1640-1660), with but moments of excep- 
tion, he had to cease to be " a poet soaring in the high region of his fancies 
with his garland and singing robes about him," and to "sit below in the cool 
element of prose." It was not only Milton's life, indeed, that was so affected 
by the great Puritan Revolution. The lives of almost all his English literary 
contemporaries were similarly affected, and through the twenty years between 
1640 and 1 660 there was an almost total cessation of Pure Literature in England 
in consequence of the drafting of the literary intellect of the country into the 
service of the current controversies. In no life, however, is the phenomenon 
more marked than in Milton's ; and there are some to whom its exhibition in 
that life in particular is matter for regret. They judge, I believe, poorly and 
wrongly. It may be admitted that in controversial prose, though such prose 
with Milton was to be far from a "cool element," he had, as he himself 
expresses it, "the use but of his left hand." To lend even that hand, however, 

^ -^ 



S : ^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxi " 

with all its force, to what he deemed the cause of God, Truth, Liberty, and his 
Country, seemed to him a more important duty, so long as there should be 
need, than scheming and writing poems. 

It was on the Church question that Milton first spoke out. The Long 
Parliament had, with singular rapidity, in the first months of its sitting, swept 
away accumulated abuses in State and Law, brought Strafford to trial and 
execution, impeached and imprisoned Laud and others of the chief ministers of 
Thorough, subjected Charles to constitutional checks, made a satisfactory 
treaty with the Scots, and sent them home with thanks for their great services 
to England. • They had also taken measures for their own security and the 
permanence of English Parliamentary government. All this having been done 
unanimously or nearly so, the Church question had at length emerged as the 
most difficult of all, and that in which there was most difference of opinion. 
That the Laudian Episcopacy must no longer exist in England all, with 
hardly an exception, were agreed ; but, for the rest, people divided themselves 
into two parties. There were the advocates of a Limited Episcopacy, excluding 
the Bishops, perhaps, from the House of Lords and from other places of 
political and judicial power, and also surrounding them even in Church matters 
with Councils of Presbyters ; and there were the Root-and-Branch Reformers, 
who were for abolishing Episcopacy utterly, and reconstructing the Church of 
England after some Presbyterian model like that of the Scots. Into this contro- 
versy Milton, in May, 1641, flung his first pamphlet, entitled, " Of Reformation 
touching Church Discipline in England and the Causes that have hitherto 
hindered it." It was a Root-and-Rranch pamphlet of most tremendous 
earnestness, and was followed within a year by four more of the same sort, viz., 
"Of Prclatical Episcopacy," (June, 1641) ; "Animadversions upon the 
Remonstrant' s Defence against Sinectymnuus," (July, 1641) ; " The Reason of 
Church government urged against Prelaty," (about Feb., 1641-42); "Apology 
against a Pamphlet called A modest Confutation of the Animadversions 
upojt the Remonstrajit against Smectymmius," (March, 1641-42). These five 
pamphlets of Milton are to be remembered in a group by themselves, and may 
be called his "Anti-Episcopal Pamphlets." The first of them is general ; in 
the others there are replies to defenders of Episcopacy, and especially to Bishop 
Hall and Archbishop Usher. The " Remonstrant " is Bishop Hall, whose 
Humble Remonstrance was regarded as the chief manifesto of High Prelacy ; 
" Smectymnuus " was the fancy name put on the title-page of a large reply to 
Hall by five leading Puritan Divines, whose initials put together made up the 
odd word (one of them Thomas Young, Milton's old tutor, now Vicar of Stow-, 
market, in Suffolk) ; and there were other pamphlets of retort and rejoinder, 
between Hall and the Smectymnuans, in all of which Milton advised and 
assisted the five Smectymnuans. Altogether by the power of his Anti- 
Episcopal pamphlets, and especially by his vehement invectives against Hall, 
Milton became a man of public note, admired by the Root-and-Branch Puritans, 
but detested by those who wanted to see Episcopacy preserved. 



s -^ 



xxii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

In August, 1642, Charles having in the meantime assented to a Bill 
excluding the Bishops from the House of Lords, but having broken decisively 
with the Parliament on other questions, there began the great CiVIL War. 
From that date Englishmen were divided into two opposed masses — the 
Parliamentarians, taking the side of that majority of the Commons and 
small minority of the Lords, which still sat on as the two Houses ; and the 
Royalists, taking the side of the King and of the bulk of the nobility, with the 
adherin<T minority of the Commons. Milton, of course, attached himself 
resolutely to the Parliamentarians. He did not, indeed, serve in the Parlia- 
mentary Army ; but he watched the progress of the contest with the most 
eao-er interest. For the first year all was dubious. The Parliamentary generals, 
Essex, Manchester, and Sir William Waller, moved about; the King and his 
generals moved about, advancing at one time close to London ; there were 
skirmishes, fights, even battles ; but, when Midsummer, 1643, had come, all 
that could be said was that London and the Eastern Counties were the 
fastnesses of Parliament, while the King had his headquarters at Oxford, and 
the rest of England lay torn into districts, some Royalist, others Parliamen- 
tarian, and others of Royalists and Parliamentarians all but equally mixed. 

That Milton should have chosen such a time for his marriage is less 
surprising than that he should have brought his bride from the very head- 
quarters of Royalism. That, however, is the fact. " About Whitsuntide 
" [May 21, 1643] it was, or a little after," says his nephew Phillips, "that he 
" took a journey into the country, nobody about him certainly knowing the 
"reason, or that it was any more than a journey of recreation ; but home he 
" returns a married man that went out a bachelor, his wife being Mary, the 
"eldest daughter of Mr. Richard Powell, then a Justice of the Peace of Forest- 
"hill, near Shotover, in Oxfordshire." What was a mystery to the boy Phillips 
at the time is very much a mystery yet ; but research has revealed a few particu- 
lars. Forest-hill is, and was, a village about four miles to the east of O.-cford, 

in the very neighbourhood where Milton's paternal ancestors had lived, and 
whence his father had come. The estate and mansion of Forest-hill had been 
for some little time in the possession of a family called Powell, not originally 
of that neighbourhood. The family, though apparently well-to-do, with a 
carriage and what not, was really in somewhat embarrassed circumstances. 
There were several mortgag2S on the property ; and among other debts owing 
by Mr. Powell was one of 500/. to Milton himself. It had been owing (on what 
account one does not know, but probably through some transaction with Milton's 
father) since 1627, when Milton was a student at Cambridge. The family, as 
their vicinity to Oxford required, were strongly Royalist. Besides Mr. Powell 
and his wife, there were eleven children, six sons and five daughters, the eldest 
one-and-twenty years of age, the youngest four. Mary Powell, the eldest 
daughter, whom Milton took home to Aldersgate Street as his wife, was seven- 
teen years and four months old (born January 24, 1625-6), while Milton him- 
self was in the middle of his thirty-fifth year, or exactly twice as old. In the 

(^ _^ 



^- 



^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxiii 

house in Aldersgate Street, whither some of the bride's relatives accompanied 
her, " there was feasting held for some days in celebration of the nuptials." So 
we are told by Phillips, who was in the house at the time, a boy of thirteen. 
" At length," he continues, " they [the bride's relatives] took their leave, and 
" returning to Forest-hill, left the sister behind : probably not much to her satis- 
" faction, as appeared by the sequel. By that time she had for a month or there- 
" about led a philosophical life (after having been used to a great house and 
"much company and jollity), her friends, possibly incited by her own desire, 
" made earnest suit by letter to have her company the remaining part of the 
"summer; which was granted, on condition of her returning at the time ap- 

" pointed, Michaelmas [Sept. 29, 1643] or thereabout." In short, it had 

been a hasty marriage, unsuitable on both sides, and the greatest blunder of 
Milton's life. " Michaelmas being come," Phillips proceeds, "and no news of 
" his wife's return, he sent for her by lettei', and, receiving no answer, sent several 
" other letters, which were also unanswered, so that he despatched down a foot- 
" messenger with a letter, desiring her return ; but the messenger came back, 
"not only without an answer, at least a satisfactory one, but to the best of my 
"remembrance, reported that he was dismissed with some sort of contempt. 
" This proceeding, in all probability, was grounded upon no other cause but 
" this : viz., that the family being generally addicted to the Cavalier Party, as they 

" called it, and some of them possibly engaged in the King's service 

" they began to repent them of having matched the eldest daughter of the 
" family to a person so contrary to them in opinion, and thought it would be a 
" blot on their escutcheon whenever the Court should come to flourish again. 
" However, it so incensed our author that he thought it would be dishonourable 
"ever to receive her again after such a repulse; so that he forthwith prepared 
" to fortify himself with arguments for such a resolution, and accordingly 
"wrote . . . ." What he wrote will appear presently. 

The Parliament meanwhile had virtually decreed the entire abolition of Epis- 
copacy in England, and had called an Assembly of Puritan Divines to advise it as 
to the forms and creed of the future National Church. This Assembly met at 
Westminster, July i, 1643, just at the time when Milton's wife left him to go back 
to her friends. In the following month the Parliament, findingthat they had made 
but little advance in the war with Charles, applied to the Scots for armed aid. 
The Scots having agreed to this on the condition that the Parliament would do 
all it could to bring England into religious and ecclesiastical conformity with 
Scotland, an alliance was formed between the two nations on the basis of what 
was called the Solemn Leag lie and Covenant, to be signed by all the English Par- 
liamentarians on the one hand and by the whole people of Scotland on the other 
(Sept. 1643). Some Scottish Divines then took their places in the West- 
minster Assembly ; and in January, 1643-4, a Scottish auxiliary army of 21,000 
men entered England. For some time they were rather inactive ; but on the 
2nd of July, 1644, they took part in the great battle of Marston Moor. In this 
battle, won chiefly by the exertions of Cromwell, then Lieutenant-general under 



^B- 



■^y 



xxiv MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

the Earl of Manchester, the King's forces were disastrously beaten, and the 

North of England was secured for the Parliament. By this time there had 

appeared a dispute among the Parliamentarians themselves, which interfered 
much with the farther prosecution of the war, and was to be of immense conse- 
quence in the history of England for many years to come. It was the dispute 
between the Presbyterians and the Independents. It began first in the West- 
minster Assembly, when that body was required to advise Parliament as to the form 
of Church-government to be set up in England. The great majority of the Eng- 
lish Divines, and of course all the Scottish Divines present, were for strict Presby- 
ter)-, on the Scottish system of a gradation of Church Courts, from the small court 
of each parish or congregation, up to the district or Presbyterial Court, the Synod 
or Provyncial Court, and so to the supreme authority of the whole Church exer- 
cised by annual representative assemblies. They were also for the compulsory in- 
clusion of every man, woman and child, within the pale of such a Church in attend- 
ance on its worship and subject to its disciphne. A very small minority of the 
English Divines, however, dissented from these views. They maintained that 
according to the Scriptural constitution of the Church, every voluntary congre- 
gation of Christians ought to be independent within itself, and that, though occa- 
sional meetings of ministers and members of different congregations might be use- 
ful for the purposes of consultation, any governing apparatus of Presbyteries, 
Synods, and Assemblies, for the control of individual congregations, was un- 
lawful. They demanded farther that, if a Presbyterian National Church were 
to be set up in England (which the overwhelming drift of opinion in its favour 
seemed to make inevitable), there should at least be a toleration of dissent from 
it, and liberty for all respectable Sects to form congregations for themselves. 
The debate soon extended itself through the English community at large ; where, 
though the Presbyterians were also largely in the majority, there were yet scat- 
tered thousands of persons favourable to Independency. To the Independents 
there attached themselves the Baptists, the Brovvnists, the Antinomians, and a 
g^eat many other sects that had lurked in English society since Elizabeth's 
time, as well as free opinionists of all sorts, and many who, though agreeing 
suflRciently with the Presbyterians in their theology, yet held by the principle of 
Liberty of Conscience, and regarded spiritual compulsion by a Presbyterian 
Church as no less monstrous than the same under the Papacy or Prelacy. In- 
dependency, in all these various forms, had come to prevail largely in the Par- 
liamentarian Army, and Cromwell was already marked there as the head of the 
Independents. Hence the English Presbyterians and the Scots had begun to 
look with great suspicion on the success of Cromwell and the Army-Indepen- 
dents in the field. They declared that Independency, with its principle of toler- 
ation, opened the door to all kind^ of schisms, heresies, and blasphemies ; they 
called the Army, all but the Scottish auxiliary portion of it, an Army of Sec- 
taries ; and they prophesied ruin to England if victory over the King should be 
won by their means. In these circumstances it is not surprising that the Pres- 
byterians and the Scottish auxiliaries should have contented themselves with a 

^- -4^ 



^B- 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxv 

slow and cautious strategy, calculated to bring the King to terms rather than 
to beat him thoroughly, while Cromwell and the Independents had no such 
hesitation, but found both their duty and their safety in audacity and energy. 
In fact, before the end of 1644 it had become evitlent that the Independents 
were more extreme revolutionists than the Presbyterians, with peculiar demo- 
cratic ideas bound up with their principle of religious freedom. Nominally, the 
Presbyterians and Independents, with the Scots, were united against the King 
in the basis of the same Solemn League and Coveiiant ; but, in reality, the In- 
dependents had begun to doubt the utility of that document, to resent the inter- 
ference of the Scots in English affairs, and to follow such courses as were sug- 
gested by free English reasonings on the Church ciuestion and on others. 

There was no real objection on the part of the Independents to the establish- 
ment of a Presbyterian National Church in England, since that seemed to be 
the wish of the majority of the Parliamentarians. Accordingly, in January, 
1644-5, the establishment of such a Church was voted by Parliament. But 
Cromwell and the Independents took care that the question of a toleration of 
Dissent should be reserved. They were also powerful enough in Parliament to 
carry about the same time certain very important resolutions. The Parlia- 
mentary general-in-chief, Essex, having recently sustained a great defeat, and 
the war having turned otherwise in the King's favour, it was resolved, really 
through Cromwell's influence, that the Army should be entirely remodelled, 
that Essex, Waller, Manchester, and all the chief officers till then in command, 
should lay down their commissions, and that the New-modelled Army should 
be commanded by Fairfax as general-in-chief, with officers under him not having 
seats in Parliament (Feb. — April, 1645). The New-modelled Army having 
taken the field, with Cromwell exceptionally retained in it as second in com- 
mand to Fairfax, the result was at once seen. On June 14, 1645, there was 
fought the great battle of Naseby, in which the King was utterly ruined. The 
war was to straggle on in detail for a year more ; but Naseby had virtually 
finished it. After that battle, of course, the Independents and Sectaries, with 
their principle of Religious Toleration, had fuller sway in the politics of Eng- 
land, and the Presbyterians and their Scottish friends were checked. 

Through those two important years Milton, deserted by his wife, had been 
living on in Aldersgate Street. Shortly after his wife's departure, his aged 
father, dislodged from Christopher Milton's house in Reading by the capture of 
that town by the Parliamentarians in April, 1643, had come permanently to live 
with him. The teaching of his two nephews, and of a few sons of friends who 
were admitted daily to share their lessons, had been one of the occupations of 
his enforced bachelorhood. His industry otherwise is attested by the fact that 
six new pamphlets came from his pen during the two years. One was a little 
Trad on Education, addressed (June, 1644) to a friend of his, Samuel Hartlib, 
a well-known German, living in London, and busy with all kinds of projects 
and speculations. It expounded Milton's views of an improved system of educa- 
tion for gentlemen's sons, that should supersede the existing public schools and 

0^ -4^ 



K&~ a? 



xxvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

universities. It was followed (Nov. 1644) by his famous " Areopagitica, or 
Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing," addressed to the Parliament, 
and urging them to repeal an Ordinance they had passed in June, 1643, for the 
Regulation of the Press by a staff of official censors. In this pamphlet there 
was abundant evidence that Milton, as might have been inferred from his passion 
for intellectual liberty from his earliest youth, was in political sympathy with the 
Independents. It was the most eloquent plea for freedom of opinion and speech 
on all subjects that had yet appeared in the English or in any other tongue. 
But, indeed, by this time Milton and the Presbyterians were at open war for 
reasons more peculiar and personal. Hardly had his wife left him when he had 
published (August, 1643) an extraordinary pamphlet entitled " The Doctrine 
and Discipline of Divorce Restored, to the Good of both Sexes," in which, 
without mention of his own case, but with implied reference to it, he argued 
that obstinate incompatibility of mind or temper between husband and wife was 
as lawful a ground for divorce as infidelity, and that any two persons who, after 
marriage, found that they did not suit each other, should be at liberty, on com- 
plying with certain public formalities, to separate and marry again. A second 
and much enlarged edition of this treatise appeared in February, 1643-4, openly 
dedicated to the Parliament ; and the same doctrine was advocated in three 
subsequent tracts : viz., " The fudgmcnt of Martin Biicer concerning Divorce" 
(July, 1644); " Tetrachordon, or Expositions upon the four chief places in 
Scripture which treat if Marriage" (March, 1644-5) > '^"d " Colasterion : a 
Reply to a nameless Answer against the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce" 
(March, 1644-5). ^^ is impossible now to imagine adequately the commotion 
caused in the religious world of London and of England by Milton's four 
Divorce Pamphlets. He was denounced and stigmatized at once as a heretic of 
the worst kind, the promulgator of a doctrine of hideous import, that would 
corrupt public morals and sap the very foundations of society. He was preached 
against from the pulpit, written against in books, named everywhere among the 
orthodox with horror and execration. The Presbyterian Divines, in particular, 
were violent in their attacks upon him, coupling him with the most notorious 
heretics and sectaries of the time, and pointing to him as an example of the 
excesses to which Toleration would lead. They complained of him to Parlia- 
ment, so that actually twice he and his writings were the subject of parliamentary 
notice and inquiry. There were men in Parliament, liowever, who knew him ; 
and though his Divorce doctrine shocked many of the Independents as well as 
the Presbyterians, the general feeling among the Independents was that it ought 
to be regarded in his case only as the eccentric speculation of a very able and 
noble man. He was therefore let alone ; and his pamphlets, circulating in 
English society, then in a ferment of new ideas of all kinds, did make some 
converts, so that Milronists or Divorcers came to be recognised as one of the 
Sects of the time. Thus, though Milton had been th2 friend and adviser of the 
five Smectymnuans who were now leading Presbyterians in the Westminster 
Assembly, though he had himself in his Anti-Episcopal pamphlets advocated 



^ 



S- -^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxvii 

what was substantially a Presbyterian constitution for the Church of England, 
and though, with hundreds of thousands of other Englishmen, he had signed 
the Solemn League and Covenant and welcomed the Scots, he had, by a natural 
course of events, been led to repudiate utterly the Presbyterians, the Scots, and 
their principles, and to regard them as narrow-minded and pragmatical men, 
enemies to English freedom. 

Phillips believes that his uncle was so resolute in his Divorce views that he 
was prepared to put them in practice and risk the consequences. In or before 
1645 there were proposals of marriage, Phillips had heard, to a Miss Davis, 
though that lady was naturally reluctant. Unexpectedly, however, and just at 
the crisis, the wife reappeared. The shattering of the King's fortunes at 
Naseby had led Mr. and Mrs. Powell of Forest-hill to reconsider the state of 
affairs, with the conclusion that it would be better for their daughter to go back 
to her husband. Arrangements having been made, she came to London ; Mil- 
ton was entrapped into an interview with her; and a reconciliation was effected. 
This was in July or August, 1645, after two years of separation, and exactly at 
the time when Milton, having had pressing applications to receive more pupils 
than the Aldersgate Street house could accommodate, had taken a larger house 
in the same neighbourhood. 

How completely Milton had desisted from Poetry during his five years in 
Aldersgate Street appears from the extreme slenderness of the list of his poeti- 
cal pieces belonging to this period : — 

Sonnet, " When the Assault was intended to the City." 1642. 

Sonnet to a Lady. 1644. 

Sonnet, " To ihe Lady Margaret Ley." 1644. 

Translated Scraps from Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto, Horace, Sophocles, and Eurip- 
ides, in the Prose Pamphlets (now appended to the Minor English Poems). 
1641-1645. 

Philosophus ad Regent Quendam (Greek Verses). 

BARBICAN, LONDON. 

1645 — 164S: CEtat. 2,7 — 39. 

The house to which Milton removed was in the street called Barbican, going 
off from Aldersgate Street at right angles, and within a walk of two or three 
minutes from the former house. As you went from Aldersgate Street it was on 
the right side of Barbican. It existed entire till only the other day, when one 
of the new city railways was cut through that neighbourhood. Milton, with his 
wife, his father, the two nephews, and other pupils, entered the house, as I cal- 
culate, in September, 1645, and it was to be his house for two years. 

One of the first incidents after the removal to Barbican was the publication 
by the bookseller Moseley of the First or 1645 edition of Milton's Minor Poems. 
Milton evidently attached some importance to the appearance of the little vol- 
ume at that particular time. It would remind people that he was not merely a 

"B- ^ -^ 



^ 



^ 



xxviii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

controversial prose writer, but something more. Nor was this unnecessary. 
Although he wrote no more upon Divorce, his opinions on the subject were un- 
changed, and the infamy with the orthodox brought upon him by his past 
Divorce Pamphlets still pursued him. The little volume of Poems might do 
something to counteract such unfavourable judgments. Not but that Milton had 
many friends whose admiration and respect for him were undisturbed, if indeed 
they were not enhanced, by the boldness of his opinions. Such were those, 
some of them relatives of his own, and others of considerable rani< in London 
society, who accounted it a favour that he should receive their sons or nephews 
as his pupils. The two years in Barbican, we learn from Phillips, were his 
busiest time in pedagogy. The house seems to have been, in fact, a small pri- 
vate academy, in which Milton carried out, as far as he could with about a 
dozen day scholars and boarders, the plan of education explained in his tract to 
Hartlib, and especially his method for expeditiously acquiring the Latin tongue, 
and at the same time a great deal of useful knowledge, by readings in a course 
of books different from those usually read in schools. 

The King's cause having been desperate since Naseby, he at length left 
Oxford in disguise, to avoid being taken there by the New-model army of Eng- 
lish Independents, and surrendered himself to the Scottish auxiliaries (May, 
1646), who immediately withdrew with him to Newcastle. The Civil War was 
then over, and the garrisons that still held out for the King yielded one by one. 
Oxford surrendered to Fairfax in June, 1646 ; and Milton's father-in-law, Mr. 
Powell, who had been shut up in that city, availed himself of the Articles of 
Surrender, and came to London, with his wife and several of their children. 
Through losses in the Civil War and sequestration of their small remaining 
property, they were in a very poor condition, and were glad of the shelter of 
Milton's house. Here Mr. Powell died January i, 1646-7, leaving his affairs in 
sad confusion. Two months and a half afterwards Milton's own father died. 
He was buried in the church of St. Giles, Cripplegate, March 15, 1646-7. The 
birth of Milton's first child, a daughter named Anne, had preceded these deaths 
by a few months (July 29, 1646). After the death of Milton's father, Mrs. 
Power and her children removed from the house in Barbican to some other part 
of London, Milton making her an allowance out of a small property in Oxford- 
shire of which he took legal possession as one of the creditors of his late father- 
in-law. Mrs. Powell and her affairs were to cause him a good deal of trouble, 
at intervals, for the next seven years. 

The possession of the King by the Scots at Newcastle had greatly com- 
plicated for a time the struggle between the English Presbyterians and the 
English Independents. The Presbyterians wanted to treat with him in such a 
way as to get rid of the Army of Sectaries which the Civil War had created, 
and establish, after all, a strict and universal system of Presbytery in England, 
without any toleration. The Independents, on the other hand, if they were to 
treat with him at all. wanted to make terms that should prevent such a universal 
Presbyterian tyranny, and secure religious liberty for themselves and the sects. 

4)- ^ ^ 



n _n^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxix 

Thinking that the possession of him by the Scots gave the Presbyterians the 
advantage, the Independents and the Army w^ere for a time furious against the 
Scots, and threatened to chase them out of England and take Charles from 
them by force. At length, however, Charles refusing to take the Covenant and 
consent to complete Presbytery, which were the only terms on which the Scots 
would stand by him, they accepted the arrears due to them from the English, 
and retired into Scotland, leaving the King to the custody of the English Par- 
liament (January, 1646-7). Confined by the Parliament at Holmby House in 
Northamptonshire, and still refusing to come to any definite treaty on the basis 
of nineteen Propositions which had been sent to him, Charles then watched the 
chances in his favour arising out of the contest between the Presbyterians and 
the Independents on the question whether the Army shouid be disbanded. The 
Presbyterians, as the war was over, and the expense of the Army was great, 
insisted that it should ; but the Army itself refused to be disbanded, and the 
Independents abetted them, on the ground, among others, that there would be 
no security then for a right settlement with the King or for Liberty of Con- 
science in England. So violent grew the disput, ethat at last the Army dis- 
owned Parliamentary authority, moved about in revolt, and seized the King at 
Holmby (June, 1647), with a view to come to an understanding with him in their 
own way. The indignation among the Presbyterians was then tremendous; 
and the Londoners, who were in the main zealous for Presbyterian uniformity, 
rose in tumult, stormed the Houses of Parliament, and tried to coerce them 
into a conflict with the Army for its forcible disbandment and the rescue of the 
King. But the excitement was brief. Fairfax marched the Army into London ; 
the tumults were quietly suppressed ; a few of the leading Presbyterians in Par- 
liament, whom the Army regarded as its chief enemies, were expelled from their 
seats ; and the Parliament and the Army fraternized, and agreed to forget their 
differences (Aug. 1647). — • — The Army, in fact, had assumed the political mastery 
ot England. It was a strange crisis for the country, but for the King it 
brought chances which were the best he ever had. Since the Army had taken 
him in charge they had treated him very generously, permitting him to reside 
where he liked, and pay visits and receive visits freely, only within military 
bounds. And now, restored to his own Palace of Hampton Court, v.-ith his 
episcopal chaplains and others of his old courtiers about him, he was more like 
a sovereign again than a prisoner, the Army only guarding him, or massed in 
his near vicinity, while their chiefs, Fairfax, Cromwell, and Ireton, held inter- 
views with him, and tried to bring him to a compact. The terms they offered 
were more liberal than those of the Presbyterians. They were anxious to try 
the experiment of a restored Royalty, with strong constitutional safeguards, and 
with an arrangement on the Church question which, while it should not disturb 
the Presbyterian establishment so far as it had been already set up, should save 
Charles's personal scruples in religion as much as possible, and guarantee to all 
non-Presbyterians a general liberty of belief and worship. 

No man in England was more interested in all this than Milton in Barbican. 



s- -a? 



XXX MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

Not only had a general system of Presbyterian Church government been voted 
for England ; but the system was by this time in actual operation in London 
and in Lancashire. Each London parish had its parochial Church Court ; the 
parishes had been grouped into "classes " or Presbyteries, each with its Presby- 
terial Court ; nay, the First Provincial Synod of all London had actually met 
(May 1647). Now, if this system had been as strict practically as it ought to 
have been by the theory of those who had set it up and those who administered 
it, Milton and all men like him would have fared rather badly. A marked 
heretic and sectary, whose name stood prominently in the black list again and 
again published by the London Presbyterians, he would have been called to ac- 
count by the Church Courts, and remitted by them to the Civil. Only the fact 
that the Presbytery set up was imperfect and tentative, with no real powers 
as yet over any but its voluntary adherents, prevented such consequences to 
Milton. Little wonder then that he followed with interest the movements of 
those whose activity stood between him and that Presbyterian domination which 
would have made such consequences inevitable. Little wonder that he ap- 
proved heartily of all the Army had done, and regarded their march into 
London and seizure of the political mastery in August, 1647, as not only a 
deliverance for England, but also a protection to himself. 

With the exception of one Latin Familiar Epistle, dated April, 1647, and 
addressed to his well remembered friend, Carlo Dati of Florence, we can assign 
to Milton's two years in Barbican only the following pieces of writing : 

In EJjigiei ejus Sculptorem (Greek Verses). 1645. 

Sonnet, " On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises." 

1645. 
Sonnet, "On the same." 1645. 

Sonnet, " To Mr. Henry I^awes on his Airs." 1646. 
Sonnet, " On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, my Christian 

Friend." 1646. 
On the New Forcers of Conscience (among the Sonnets). 1646. 
Ad Joannein Kousium, Oxonicnsis Academice Bibliothecarium (among the Sylva). 

1646-47. 
Apologus de Rustico ei Hero (appended to Ekgiarum Liber). 

LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, HIGH HOLBORN, LONDON. 

1647 — 1649: cetat. 39 — 41, 

It was just after the entry of the Army into London, Phillips tells us (/. e. it 
was in September or October, 1647), that Milton, tired by this time of the drudgery 
of teaching, and desiring quiet for his own pursuits, " left his great house in 
Barbican, and betook himself to a smaller in High Holborn, among those that 
open backward into Lincoln's Inn Fields." The house cannot be distinguished, 
and is probably not now extant ; but its site was somewhere in the present block 
between Great Turnstile and Little Turnstile. That was then a pleasant and 
airy neighbourhood. 



a- 6b 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxxi 

Of Milton's occupations during the eighteen months or so of his residence 
in this house we know little else than that he was busy over three prose enter- 
prises he had projected long ago and had prosecuted at intervals. One was a 
collection of materials for a Latin Dictionary ; a second was the preparation of 
a System of Divinity directly from the Bible ; the third was the compilation of a 
History of Britain. It was while he was thus studiously engaged that the 
tragedy of the Reign of Charles came to a conclusion. 

After Cromwell and the other Army Chiefs had persisted in negotiating with 
Charles at Hampton Court till the Army had grown impatient, and had begun 
to suspect their chiefs, and to call out for a pure Democracy as the only fit con- 
summation, Charles had himself precipitated matters by escaping from the 
negotiation and the Army at the same time, and taking refuge in the Isle of 
Wight (November, 1747). Committed to safe keeping in Carisbrooke Castle, 
he was followed thither by commissioners from Parliament, charged to treat 
with him peremptorily on a severe recast of the old terms. He was still obdurate 
on the essential points, and Parliament formally decreed all negotiation with him 
at an end (January, 1647-8). By that time he had made a secret treaty with 
the Scots, from which he expected vast results. On his promise to confirm 
the Covenant and Presbyterian government in England, and to suppress Inde- 
pendency and all sects and heresies, the Scottish Government, then in power, 
had undertaken to invade England in his behalf, rouse the English Presbyterians, 
and restore him to his royal rights. Thus in May, 1648, began the SECOND 
Civil War. Masses of the English Presbyterians, including the Londoners, 
forgetting all the past, and exulting only in the prospect of subduing the Inde- 
pendents, the Army and the Sectaries, were hurried into a phrenzy of Royalism 
in common with the Old Royalists or Cavaliers. There were risings in various 
districts, and threats of rising everywhere ; and, when the Scots did invade 
England under the Duke of Hamilton (July, 1648), even the Parliament began 
to falter. Cromwell's marvellous defeat of the Scots in the three days' battle 
of Preston (August 17-19), and Fairfax's extinction of the insurrection in the 
South-Eastern Counties by the capture of Colchester after a six weeks' siege 
(August 28), ended the brief tempest and brought Charles to his doom. There 
was still a farther treaty with him in the Isle of Wight on the part of the 
Parliament, the Army looking on with anger, but reserving its interference to 
the last. The treaty having failed like all the rest, the Army, which had resolved 
in no case to be bound by it, did interfere. They brought Charles from the 
Isle of Wight ; they purged the Parliament of some scores of its members, so 
as to reduce it to a body fit for their purposes ; they compelled the Parliament 
so purged to set up a Court of High Justice for the trial of the King ; and, 
though many even of the Independents shrank at the final moment, the sen- 
tence of this Court was executed, Jan. 30, 1648-9, in front of Whitehall. Eng- 
land then passed into the condition of a Republic, to be governed by the Rump 
of the Lotig Parliament, i. e., that fragment of the Commons House which the 
Army had left in existence, in conjunction with a Council of State, consisting 

^ ^ 



^ ^ 



xxxii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

of forty-one members of the Rump chosen as a Ministry or Executive. Scot- 
land, monarchical still, proclaimed Charles II., and sent envoys to him in 
Holland. 

The pieces from Milton's pen in High Holborn during this rapid rush of 
events are few enough, but are characteristic : — 

Nine of the Psalms (Psalms LXXX. — LXXXVlil.) done into Metre. April, 1648. 
Sonnet, "On the Lord General Fairfax at the Siege of Colchester." September, 
1648. 

AT CHARING CROSS: AND IN SCOTLAND YARD, WHITEHALL. 

1649 — 1652 : (Xtai. 41 — 44, 

Milton at once adhered to the Republic, and in a very public and emphatic 
manner, by the publication (Feb., 1648-9) of his " Tenure of Kings and Magis- 
trates, proTing that it is lawful, and hath been held s^ through all ages, for 
any who hai>e the poiaer, to call to account a Tyrant, or wicked King, and, 
after due conviction, to depose and put him to death, if the ordinary Ilfagis- 
trate have neglected to do it.'' It was a thorough-going Republican pamphlet, 
defending in every particular the recent proceedings of the English Army, and 
containing also a severe invective against the whole life and reign of Charles. 
It had been begun and almost finished before the King's death. 

What more natural than that the Government of the new Commonwealth 
should seek to attach to its official service the author of such a pamphlet, who 
was moreover a man of such merits and antecedents otherwise .'' Hardly, in 
fact, had the first Council of State been constituted, with Bradshaw for its 
President, when Milton was offered, and accepted (March, 1649), the post of 
Secretary for Foreign Tongues to the Council. The salary was to be about 
300/. a year in the money of that day ; which was equivalent to about 1,050/. a 
year now. The General Secretary to the Council, at a somewhat higher salary, 
was a Mr. Walter Frost, appointed by the Parliament ; under whom was his 
son, Walter Frost, junior, as Assistant-Secretary, with the necessary clerks. 
The Secretaryship for Foreign Tongues, called also the Latin Secretaryship, 
was a special and independent office, instituted by the Council itself, chiefly in 
view of expected correspondence between the Commonwealth and Foreign 
Powers. It had been agreed that all letters from the Commonwealtlxto Foreign 
States and Princes should be in Latin ; but, as the replies might be in various 
foreign tongues, a knowledge of such tongues would be useful in the Secretary. 
Altogether Mr. Milton was" thought the very man for the post. While Mr. 
Frost, as the General Secretary, would be always present at the Council meet- 
ings, and engrossed in their ordinary and multifarious business, Mr. Milton 
would have to give attendance for the most part daily, but only for portions of 
the day. His duties, I should say, were to be very much those of the head 
Secretary of our present Foreign Office under the Minister for that department, 
with the difference that the Council of State then managed the Foreign minis- 

^ ^ 



S~^ : -e, 



MEMO/ J? OF MILTON. xxxili 

tr^- as well as every other department of State, and that the diplomatic corre- 
spondence of the Commonwealth was not likely to be so extensive but that one 
head Secretary, with a clerk or two, could manage it all. 

The duties, at all events, made it convenient that Milton should reside near 
to the Council, the meetings of which were, for the first month or two, in Derby 
House, close to the Houses of Parliament, but afterwards permanently in White- 
hall. Accordingly, immediately on his appointment, he left his house in High 
Holborn, and took lodgings "at one Thomson's, next door to the Bull Head 
Tavern at Charing Cross, opening into the Spring Garden." This was only till 
official apartments could be prepared for him in Whitehall ; and in November, 
1649, seven or eight months after he had began his Secretarysh'p, such apart- 
ments were assigned him by the Council. They were in that end of the exten- 
sive palace of Old Whitehall which was called Scotland Yard. Not a few 
members of the Council of State, and others of the Parliament, were similarly 
accommodated in Whitehall ; which had, in fact, been converted into a range of 
Government offices. Milton occupied his Whitehall or Scotland Yard rooms 
for a little more than two years, or till near the end of the third year of his 
Secretaryship. After he had been in them for some time the Council voted 
him some of the late King's hangings, or curtains and tapestry, for the better 
furnishing of the rooms. 

To give the details of Milton's liie in ths first years of his Latin Secretary- 
ship to the Council of State would be really, in some measure, to narrate the 
historj' of the English Com.monwealth, so exactly at the centre of affairs was 
he by his official position, and with so many of the public proceedings of the 
time was he personally concerned. It would be a mistake to suppose that his 
sole employment was in drafting letters in Latin to foreign Governments. 
Among the State Documents of English histor}', indeed, from 1649 onwards, 
there is a long series of Latin letters to Foreign Courts and Princes, all of Mil- 
ton's penning, and some of them, though Milton only embodied his instructions, 
unm.istakeably his own in form and expression. It was part of his duty, how- 
ever, not only to prepare such letters for the approbation of the Council or of 
Parliament (for some of them had to be read in Parliament and approved there 
before the Speaker signed and despatched them), but also to translate foreign 
papers and be in attendance at interviews of the Council, or of Committees of 
the Council or of Parliament, with foreign ambassadors and envoys. Indeed, 
sometimes he had himself to wait on such ambassadors or envoys, and convey 
delicate messages to them, in the name of the Council. In this way his 
acquaintanceship among eminent foreigners living in London, or visiting Lon- 
don, came gradually to be very extensive. Gradually only ; for in the first 
years of his official life, while Foreign Powers as yet, with few exceptions, held 
aloof from the Commonwealth, the particular duties of the Foreign Secretary- 
ship were far from onerous. A despatch once in two months to the King of 
Spain, the King of Portugal, the Hamburg Senate, etc., is about the measure 
of the preserved Foreign Correspondence for the years 1649-1651. From the 



s- -^ 



xxxiv MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

first, therefore, the Council had availed themselves of Milton's services in very 
miscellaneous work. If they wanted a book, or a set of dangerous papers, re- 
ported on, with a view to a prosecution for sedition, they referred the task to 
Mr. Milton ; if there were any dealing with an author or a printer about some- 
thing to be published, Mr. Milton was requested to see to it ; everything, in 
short, involving literary knowledge or judgment went to Mr. Milton rather than 
to Mr. Frost. Occasionally he brought some matter of his own accord before 
the Council, or used his influence in behalf of some scholar or man of letters, 
such as Davenant, who had got into difficulty through his Royalism. One would 
hardly have expected to find the author of the Areopagitica acting as an official 
licenser of the press ; but, for a whole year, I have distinctly ascertained, 
Milton was the official licenser of the newspaper called Mercicrius Poliiicus. 
As it was, in fact, a Government organ, conducted by Mr. Marchamount Need- 
ham, who had formerly been a Royalist pamphleteer and journalist, the censor- 
ship may be supposed to have implied a superintending edito—hip. To Milton's 
Secretaryship was also attached an " inspection into " the State Paper Office in 
Whitehall, i.e. a kind of keepership of the Records. Nor was this all. When 
the Council of State had chosen Milton as their Secretary for Foreign Tongues, 
they had secured, as they knew, a man fit to be the Literary Champion of the 
still struggling Commonwealth. Three publications of Milton, accordingly, all 
done at the order or by the request of the Council of State, have to be especially 
mentioned as feats of the first three years of his Secretaryship. " Obsc!"i>aiioiis 
on Orniond's Articles of Peace with iJte Irish Rebels and on a Representation 
of the Scotch Presbytery of Belfast" is the title (somewhat abbreviated) of a 
pamphlet of Milton's, published by authority in May, 1649, when Charles II. 
had been proclaimed in Ireland, and the Marquis of Ormond was trying to 
unite in his cause the native Irish Roman Catholics, the English settlers, and 
the Ulster Presbyterians. Of far greater importance was the Eikonoklastes 
{i. e. Image Breaker), published in October, 1649, in answer to the famous 
"^//'i';/ ^a^////v (/. ^. Royal Image) or Portraiture of his Sacred Majesty in 
his solitudes and sufferings," professing to be meditations and prayers written 
by Charles I. in his last years. The " King's Book," as it was called, then all 
but universally believed to be really by Charles, though the evidence that it was 
a fabrication in his interest, has long been regarded as conclusive, had appeared 
immediately after Charles' death, had circulated in different forms and in 
thousands of copies, and had become a kind of Bible with the Royalists. 
Milton's answer to it, in which he criticised both the book and the dead King 
with merciless severity, was received, therefore, as a signal service to the 
Commonwealth. More momentous still was \\\s l^Mm " Defensio pro Populo 
A7iglica:io " (" Defence for the People of England "), published in April, 1651, 
in reply to the defence of Charles I. and attack upon the English Commonwealth, 
which had been published in Holland more than a year before by the great 
Leyden Professor, Salmasius, at the instance and at the expense of Charles II. 
(see Introduction to the Latin Epigrams on Salmasius). Never in the world had 

^fe- ^ 



S (b 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxxv 

one human being inflicted on another a more ruthless or appalling- castigation 
than Milton here inflicted on perhaps the most renowned scholar of his day in all 
Europe, the veteran whom his learned contemporaries called " The Wonderful," 
and for the honour of possessing whom Princes and Courts contended ; and just 
in proportion to the celebrity of the victim so murdered, trampled on, and 
gashed, was the amazement over the man that had done the deed. The book 
had been out a little more than two months when the Council of State, after 
offering a money reward to Milton, which he declined, passed and inserted in 
their Minutes (June 17, 165 1) this vote of thanks to him : " The Council, taking 
" notice of the many good services performed by Mr. John Milton, their Secre- 
" tary for Foreign Tongues, to this State and Commonwealth, particularly of 
"his Book in vindication of the Parliament and the People of England against 
" the calumnies and invectives of Salmasius, have thought fit to declare their 
" resentment and good acceptance of the same, and that the thanks of the 
"Council be returned to Mr. Milton, and their sense represented in that 
" behalf." But it was abroad, and among foreigners in London, that the Reply 
to Salmasius excited the most lively interest. From all the embassies in 
London Milton received formal calls or speedy messages of compliment ex- 
pressly on account of the book ; and in Holland, France, Germany, Sweden, 
Denmark, and elsewhere, copies were in extraordinary demand, and a topic of 
talk among scholars for months was the mangling which the great Salmasius had 
received from one of "the English mastiffs." It is not too much to say, that 
before the end of the year 1651, in consequence of this one book, Milton's name 
was more widely known on the Continent than that of any other Englishman 
then living, except Oliver Cromwell. 

Though Cromwell had been, of course, a member of the Council of State 
from the first, his labours through the greater part of the years 1649-1651 had 
been elsewhere than at Whitehall. From August, 1649, to June, 1650, he had 
been in Ireland, as Lord Lieutenant for the Commonwealth, crushing the Roy- 
alist confederacy there, and reconquering the country after its eight years of 
Rebellion. From July, 1650, to August, 1651, he had been in Scotland, where 
Charles II. had meanwhile been received as King, and whence the Scots threat- 
ened to bring him into England. The battle of Dunbar (Sept. 3, 1650), and 
subsequent successes, had already made Cromwell master of all the South of 
Scotland, when, by a sudden movement, Charles and the Scottish Army escaped 
his vigilance and burst into England, obliging him to follow in pursuit. Having 
beaten them in the great battle of Worcester (Sept. 3, 1651), he was back at 
Whitehall at last, the acknowledged saviour of the Commonwealth and supreme 
chief of England. The young King was again in exile, and the Commonwealth, 
now including Scotland, Ireland, and the English colonies and dominions, was 
to all appearance one of the most stable, as it was certainly one of the most 
powerful, of the European States. Such foreign Princes and Governments as 
had hitherto stood aloof, hastened to send their embassies and apologies, and 
Milton's duties in the special work of his Secretaryship for Foreign Tongues 
were likely to be more burdensome than they had been. 

^ -4^ 



s -^ 



xxxvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

It is significant that the only pieces of verse known to have come from Mil- 
ton's pen during the three years of his life just sketched are these : — 

Scrap of Verse from Seneca, inculcating Tyrannicide, translated in Tenure of 
Kings and Magistrates (now appended to Minor English Poems). 1649. 

In Salmasii Htoidredam : Scrap of Latin parody in Defensio Pt itiia (now annexed 
to the Sylvie). 

PETTY FRANCE, WESTMINSTER. 

1652 — l66o:^/rt/. 44 — 52. 

In the beginning of 1652, for some reason or other, Milton removed from 
the official rooms in Whitehall into a house which he had taken close at hand. 
It was " a pretty garden-house in Petty France, Westminster, next door to the 
Lord Scudamore's, and opening into St. James's Park." It still exists, and is, 
I believe, the only one of Milton's many London houses now left. No one look- 
ing now at No. 1 9 York Street, Westminster, a dingy old house, let out in apart- 
ments, in a dense and dingy street of poor houses and shops, can imagine with- 
out difficulty that it was once the pretty garden-house, opening into St. James's 
Park, which Milton occupied. That is the house, however ; and any one can 
go and see it. Jeremy Bentham, whose residence was in the neighbourhood, was 
afterwards its proprietor: and William Hazlitt lived in it from 18 ri onwards. 
Milton was to inhabit it for eight years, the longest term in which we have found 
him in any one house yet since he left his native I5read Street. This term 
of eight years, however, subdivides itself biographically into three portions : 

Last Fifteen Months of the Commonwealth {Jan., 165 1-2 — April, 
^653) '. — As the Council of State was itself elected annually by the Parliament, 
with changes oi \{?> personnel tve:ry year, Milton's Latin Secretaryship, it will be 
understood, had also been renewed from year to year by express appointment of 
each Council. In 1652 he entered on his fourth year of office. There was 
more to do this year in the way of drafting foreign despatches and attending at 
meetings with ambassadors than there had been previously ; and, accordingly, 
Milton's preserved Latin despatches of the year, as given in his printed works, 
are about as numerous as those for the three preceding years put together. Yet 
it was precisely in the midst of this increase of work that Milton became inca- 
pable, as one would suppose, of Secretarial work of any kind. The blindness 
which had been gradually coming on for some years (one eye having failed 
before the other), and which had been accelerated by his persistence in his book 
against Salmasius in spite of the warnings of his physicians, had become serious 
before his removal to Petty France, and was total about the middle of 1652. 
With such a calamity added to his almost constant ill health otherwise, one 
would have expected the resignation of his Secretaryship. But the Common- 
wealih had no disposition to part with its literary champion ; and arrangements 
were made for continuing him in office. Mr. Walter Frost, senior, having died 
in March, 1652, Mr. John Thurloe had been appointed his successor in the 

^ ^ 



^ Q? 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxxvii 

General Secretaryship to the Council, with a salary of 600/. a year (worth about 
2000/. a year now) ; a naturalized German, Mr. Weckherlin, formerly in the 
service of Charles I. and of Parliament, was brought in to assist Milton in the 
Foreign department ; and for occasional service in translating documents Mr. 
Thurloe found other persons as they were wanted. Milton was distinctly retained 
with his full rank and title as Secretary for Foreign Tongues to the Council ; and 
there is positive evidence that he went on performing some portion of his 
old duties. What one sees, in fact, from the middle of 1652 onwards, is the 
blind Milton led across the Park every other day, when his health permitted, 
from his house in Petty France to "Whitehall, sitting in the Council as before 
when he had to catch the substance of any resolution that had to be embodied 
in a Latin letter, or perhaps sometimes only receiving the necessary information 
from Mr. Thurloe, and then either dictating the required document on the spot, 
or returning home to compose it more at leisure, Whatever Weckherlin and 
others did to help, all the more important despatches were still expected from 
Milton himself, and at receptions of ambassadors and other foreign agents 
he was still the proper official. 

Salmasius, who had been in Sweden when Milton's Answer to him appeared, 
had returned to Holland in no enviable state of mind. He had been vowing 
revenge, and was even rumoured to have a reply ready for the press ; but none 
was forthcoming. Meanwhile several attacks on Milton in his behalf by other 
persons were published abroad anonymously and in Latin. One of these, a very 
poor thing, attributed at the time to the Irish ex-Bishop Bramhall, I:)ut really by 
a refugee English preacher named Rowland, was handed over by Milton for 
answer to his younger nephew, John Phillips. The result w-as " Joanm's 
Philippi Angli Responsio ad Apologiatn aiionytni ctijitsdavi teiicbrt'oiiis" 
(1652), a pamphlet so revised and touched by Milton that it may be accounted 
partly his. He reserved wholly for himself the task of replying to a far more 
formidable and able attack made upon him by an anonymous friend of Salmasius 
under the title " Regit Clamor ad Calian advcrsics Parrzci'das Angli'cajios" 
(" Cry of the King's Blood to Heaven against the English Parricides"). Pub- 
lished at the Hague late in 1652, this book contained such charges against Mil- 
ton's personal character that he could not let it pass; but the Answer was 
deferred. For the rest, the literary relics of the last fifteen months of his Secre- 
taryship to the Commonwealth consist only of three Latin Familiar Epistles, two 
of them to foreigners, and the following two Sonnets : — 

Sonnet, " To the Lord General Cromwell." May, 1652. • 

Sonnet, " To Sir Henry Vane the younger." Put into Vane's liands July 3, 1652. 

Cromwell's Dictatorship and Protectorate {April, 1653 — Sept., 
1658) : — The Sonnets to Cromwell and Vane were written just at the time when 
these two chiefs of the Republic were coming to an irreconcileable difference. 
Cromwell, and the whole Army at his back, had made up their minds that the 
time had come for a more regular Government of the Commonwealth than the 



^ ^ 



s- -^ 



xxxviii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

anomalous makeshift by the Rump of the Long Parhament, consisting of about 
a hundred and twenty persons at the utmost, surviving out of a House of five 
hundred that had been returned by EngUsh constituencies as far back as 1640. 
The question of a dissolution and the election of a new and complete Parlia- 
ment on a reformed system of popular suffrage, including all that would be 
faithful to the Commonwealth, had again and again been discussed, and a 
rather distant day for a dissolution at last fixed. There were, however, mis- 
understandings on the subject, with signs that Vane and others were bent on a 
policy antagonistic to the views of Cromwell and the Army. On the 20th of 
April, 1653, Cromwell concluded the business by going to the House with a 
company of musketeers, turning out Vane and the other-fifty-two members who 
were then sittmg, locking the doors, and giving the key and the mace into the 
keeping of one of his colonels. He dissolved the Council of State the same 
dav. The Commonwealth proper being thus at an end, there ensued the five 
years and four months of Cromwell's supremacy. It was divided into (i) what 
maybe called his Interim Dictatorship (April — Dec, 1653), when he governed, 
still as " Lord General Cromwell," by the aid of a Council of his officers, wait- 
ing the issue of the special Parliament of select persons from England, Scotland 
and Ireland, which he had summoned for the emergency ; and (2) his Protec- 
torate (Dec, 1653 — Sept., 1658), when he ruled with the title of " Lord Pro- 
tector." The Protectorate itself passed through two phases. Till May, 1657, 
Cromwell was still in a manner but the elected head of a Republic ; but thence 
to his death, Sept. 3, 1658, he was virtually King. 

Though all England, Scotland, and Ireland were obliged to acquiesce in 
Cromwell's supremacy, and though in the course of his powerful rule, he- 
succeeded in winning general respect, and especially in making the entire popu- 
lation of the British Islands proud of the position asserted for them in Europe by 
his magnanimous foreign policy, yet the Oliverians, as his more express and 
thorough adherents were called, were but a section of the former Army-men 
and Republicans. Milton, whose admiration for Cromwell had all along been 
immense, was decidedly one of those Oliverians. He had approved even of 
Cromwell's forcible dissolution of the Parliament and the Council of State which 
he himself served ; and he regarded Cromwell's Dictatorship and Protectorate 
as the best possible embodiment for the time of the principles of real Repub- 
licanism. It need be no matter for surprise, therefore, that Milton was con- 
tinued in his Latin Secretaryship. There was conjoined with him, indeed, in 
1653, a Philip Meadows, entitled also "Latin Secretary;" Milton's friend, 
Andrew Marvell, was brought in at a later time to give some assistance ; and 
there was some fluctuation of Milton's salary in the course of the Protectorate. 
In 1655, on a general reduction of official salaries, it was ordered that Milton's 
should be reduced to 1 50/. per anman, but that the same should be settled on 
him for his life. Actually, however, this sum seems to have been raised to 200/. 
a year (worth about 700/. a year now) ; with which salary, and with Meadows as 
his coadjutor, doing all the routine work, Milton remained the Latin Secretary 
E.xtraordinarv. 



4> 



S- Qp 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xxxix 

Among his preserved Latin State Letters, besides about half a dozen written 
in the latter part of 1653 for Cromweirs Council of Officers or the special Par- 
liament he had called in his Dictatorship, there are as many as eighty belonging 
to the Protectorate itself, and despatched as Cromwell's own letters, with his 
signature, "Oliverius, Anglicp, Scotia, Hibernice, &^c., Pro/ecior." Most 
famous, perhaps, among these now are the Letters written in 1655 on the sub- 
ject of the massacre of the Vaudois Protestants. All in all, though Milton's 
secretarial services under the Protectorate must have been confined mainly to 
such eloquent expression in Latin of the Protector's more important messages 
to Foreign Powers, it is a memorable fact in the history of England, that he was 
one of Cromwell's faithful officials to the last, often in colloquy with him, and 
sometimes in ceremonial attendance at his Court. For any colloquy, Milton, 
with his clear, vague eyes, would be led into the room where Cromwell was ; and 
at any Court Concert, or the like, Milton, if he came, would be conducted gently 
to a seat. 

In 1653 or 1654 Milton's wife died, still a very young woman, leaving him, 
at the age of forty-five, a widower with three daughters, Anne, Mary and Debo- 
rah. The eldest, who was somewhat deformed, was but in her eighth year ; the 
second was in her sixth ; the youngest was a mere infant. A son, born in Scot- 
land Yard, between the second daughter and the third, had not survived. How 
the motherless little creatures were brought up in the house in Petty France, 
under the charge of their blind father, no one knows. It may have been a happy 
change for them when he married again, Nov. 12, 1656, But the second wife, 
known merely as Catherine Woodcock, daughter of a Captain Woodcock of 
Hackney, died in childbirth Feb. 10, 1657-8, only fifteen months after the mar- 
riage, the child dying also ; and thus, in the last year of Cromwell's Protectorate, 
Milton, in his fiftieth year, was again a widower, with his three motherless girls, 
the eldest not twelve years old. Fancy, in the house in Petty France, the blind 
father, a kind of stern King Lear, mostly by himself, and the three young things 
pattering about, as noiselessly as possible, at their own will or in the charge of 
some servant ! It was to be tragic in the end both for him and them. 

What of Milton's independent literary activity through the five years of 

Cromwell's Protectorate ? For a blind man it was considerable. Besides 

fourteen of his Latin Familiar Epistles, most of them to foreign friends, there 
belong to the period of the Protectorate two of Milton's most substantial Latin 
pamphlets. The first, which appeared in 1654, was his Reply to that attack 
upon him, already mentioned, which had been published at the Hague in 1652 
by some anonymous friend of Salmasius. While defending his own character 
in this Reply, Milton made it also a new defence of the English nation ; and 
hence it was entitled " yoanm's Milioni Atigli pro Populo Anglicano Defe^isio 
Sectinda " (" Second Defence of John Milton, Englishman, for the English 
People"). Both historically and autobiographically it is one of the most 
interesting of Milton's pamphlets. It contains a splendid panegyric on Crom- 
well, with notices of Fairfax, Bradshaw, Fleetwood, Lambert, Whalley, Overton, 



s -^ 



xl MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

and others. Milton assumes throughout that the author of the book to which he 
was replying was a certain Alexander More, and the license he gives himself in 
his personal abuse of this More is something frightful. More, who had only had 
a hand in the publication of the book that had given the offence (the real author 
of which was Peter Du Moulin, afterwards Prebendary of Canterbury), replied 
to Milton's attack, and so drew from him in 1655 another pamphlet, entitled 
" Joamn's Mil font Angli pro se Defctisio cotitra Alcxandrit7n Moriim " 
("Defence of John Milton, Englishman, for Himself, against Alexander More "), 
to which was annexed " Author is ad AlexaJtdri Mori Supplement urn Re- 
sponsio" ("The Author's Reply to Alexander More's Supplement"). This 

closed the controversy. In the shape of Verse we have from Milton, through 

the time of Cromwell's rule, the following : — 

Eight of the Psalms (Psalms i. — viii.) done into Verse. Aug., 1653. 

The Fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I., translated. 

De A/oro (Scrap from the Defensio Secitnda, now appended to Elegiarum Liber). 

1654. 
In Salmasium (another scrap from the Defensio Seciinda, now appended to the 

Sylvce). 1654. 
Ad Cknstinani, Suecornm /!egi7tain, nomine Croinwelli (appended to the Elegiarum 

Liber, as attributed to Milton). 1654. 
Sonnet, "On the late Massacre in Piedmont." 1655. 
Sonnet on his Blindness. 
Sonnet to Mr. Lawrence. 
Sonnet to Cyriack Skinner. 
Sonnet to the Same. 1655. 
Sonnet to the Memory of his Second Wife. 1658. 

A fact of special interest, for which there is very good authority, is that the 
actual composition of Paradise Lost was begun in the last year of Cromwell's 
Protectorate,/, e. in 1658, about the date of the last of Milton's Sonnets. In 
resuming the subject, first projected in 1639 or 1640, Milton abandoned the 
Dramatic form then contemplated, and settled on the Epic. 

Protectorate of Richard Cromwell, and Anarchy preceding 
THE Restoration {Sept., idz^Z—May, 1660):— Eleven printed Letters by 
Milton in the name of the Protector Richard, and two written by him for the 
restored Rump Parliament after Richard's abdication (April, 1659), attest the 
continuance of Milton's Secretaryship into this wretched period. Indeed as 
late as October, 1659, he and Andrew INIarvell are found in receipt of their 
salaries of 200/. a year each as colleagues in the office. But " a little before 
the King's coming over," Phillips informs us, he was sequestered from his 
office and " the salary thereunto belonging." O how Milton struggled to the 
last to avert that catastrophe, as he regarded it, of " the King's coming over "! 
"A Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes"; "Considerations 
touching the likeliest 7neans to remove Hirelings out of the Church ": " A 



-Pv 



^ — ^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xli 

Letter to a Friend concerning the Ruptures of the Commonwealth "; such are 
the titles of three short pamphlets addressed by Milton in 1659 to his perplexed 
and bewildered countrymen. They were followed in the beginning of 1660 by 
three more — " The Present Means and Brief Delineation of a Free Common- 
wealth, easy to be put in practice and without delay: in a Letter to General 
Monk"; " The Ready and Easy Way to establish a Free Cojnmonwealth" ; 
"Brief Notes upon a late Serjnon [a Royalist Sermon] preached and since 
published by Matthew Griffith, D. Z>." All in vain ! " No Blind Guides," 
was the title of a Reply by the Royalist, Roger L'Estrange. to the last pam- 
phlet. The Restoration of Charles II. had come to be generally desired through- 
out England, Scotland and Ireland, as the only escape from anarchy ; Monk 
managed it ; and on the 29th of May, 1660, Charles made his triumphant tniry 
into London. No piece of verse came from Milton in this period ; but it con- 
tains three of his Latin Familiar Letters. 

IN HIDING AND IN CUSTODY. 

1660 : ceiat. 52. 

The wonder is that, at the Restoration, Milton was not hanged. At a time 
when they brought to the scaffold all the chief living Regicides and their accom- 
plices that were within reach, including even Hugh Peters, and when they dug 
up Cromwell's body and hanged it at Tyburn, and tore also from the earth at 
Westminster the body of Cromwell's mother and other " Cromwellian bodies " 
that had been buried there with honour, the escape of Milton, the supreme 
defender of the Regicide through the press, the man who had attacked the 
memory of Charles I. with a ferocity which even some of the actual Regicides 
must have thought unnecessary and outrageous, is all but inexplicable. He 
was for some time in real danger. Quitting his house in Petty France, his 
nephew tells us, he lay concealed in " a friend's house in Bartholomew Close," 
near Smithfield, till the Act of general Oblivion and Indemnity came forth 
(August, 1660) ; and there is a story, on mere vague authority, that his friends, 
while he was in hiding, spread a report that he was dead, and even arranged a 
mock-funeral, to stop search for him. Meanwhile his Eikonoklastes and his 
Defensio pro Populo Anglicano had been condemned by Parliament and burnt 
by the hands of the hangman. Even after the Act of Indemnity Milton was 
not safe. He was in custody of the Sergeant-at-Arms for some time, but was 
finally released December 15. There had been, doubtless, powerful interces- 
sion in his behalf; and the tradition is, that among those who exerted them- 
selves for him was Sir William Davenant, now the restored Poet-laureate of 
the new reign, for whom Milton had done a like good service under the Com- 
monwealth. However his pardon was effected, the spirit in which it was 
granted was exactly as if, in some meeting of Charles's Council, when the pro- 
priety of bringing Milton to trial was discussed, the conclusion had been, " It is 
not worth while: let the blind blackguard live." 



4 



xHi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

HOLBORN AGAIN (NEAR RED LION FIELDS): JEWIN STREET. 

1660 — 1664: atat. 52 — 56. 

For some little time after Milton's release and pardon he lived in Holborn, 
near what is now Red Lion Square, on the opposite side of the great Holborn 
thoroughfare from that which contained his former house in that neighbourhood. 
As soon as possible, however, he removed to his old and favourite Aldersgate 
Street vicinity, having taken a house in Jewin Street, which goes off from Aiders- 
gate Street on the same side as Barbican, but nearer to St. Martin's-le-Grand 
than either Barbican or the site of Milton's former Aldersgate Street house. If 
this Jewin Street house exists, it has not been identified. 

It was from those two houses, in Holborn and in Jewin Street, that Milton wit- 
nessed, or rather heard of, all those miscellaneous events and proceedings which 
were to undo, as far as was possible, the achievements of the preceding twenty 
years, and which are comprised now in English Histories in the single phrase 
1 he Restoration. What had been the united Commonwealth was again broken 
into its three parts, England, Scotland and Ireland ; and in each the partisans 
of the late system found themselves disgraced and degraded, and the regulation 
of affairs passed into the hands of Cavaliers returned from exile, and of such 
renegades or new men as these drew in their train. In England Episcopacy 
was restored, with the Liturgy, and all else that belonged to the old Anglican 
Church ; two thousand Presbyterian ministers were ejected from their livings 
by the Act of Uniformity ; and by other Acts civil penalties and disadvantages 
were attached to every profession of Dissent. In Scotland all Acts passed 
since 1633 were repealed ; the Kirk was forced back into Prelacy, with Arch- 
bishop Sharp at its head ; and there began, under a ministry who were generally 
drunk, the ruthless barbarities against the Presbyterians still remembered as 
"the Persecutions." In Ireland there were measures to correspond. And, 
with this universal political reaction, what a change in public morals and man- 
ners ! Round a Court which set an example of shamelessness, London and the 
general English world were whirled, by a rebound from the extreme Puritan 
strictness that had been in fashion, into an ostentatious revelry in Anti-Puritan- 
ism. Swearing, swaggering, and an affectation of profligacy, were the proofs 
of a proper abhorrence of the cant of the lately ruling Saints, and a proper 
loyalty to the existing powers. In the new Literature that sprang up, as well 
as in other forms of mental activity, the new social spirit was faithfully repre- 
sented. Veterans like Hobbes and Izaak Walton, with Browne of Norwich, 
Clarendon, Jeremy Taylor, and others among the graver prose-writers who had 
survived from the reign of Charles I., and Shirley, Herrick, Waller, Davenant, 
Denham, Cowley, and others, surviving from among the poets of the same 
reign, were very much their former selves, only rejoicing in the restored Royalty ; 
the specific tendency to mathematical and physical science which had already 
grouped together such men as Wilkins, Wallis, Petty, Boyle and Hooke, through 
the Commonwealth and Protectorate, now only displayed itself more signally 



S : -^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xliii 

in the institution of the Royal Society ; but the literature belonging properly to 
the Restoration itself had all the characteristics of its origin. To the core it 
was Anti-Puntan, reactionary and unearnest. Never in English literary history 
had there been such a run of talent to the comic, the jocose, the witty. The 
revived drama of the re-opened theatres, to which people rushed now with an 
avidity all the keener for the disuse of that amusement for eighteen years, con- 
sisted chiefly of Comedies and Farces, in which wit was desirable, but indecency 
indispensable. New things called Tragedies there were, but of such a texture 
that Time has refused to remember them. For what of Tragedy was wanted, 
reproduction of Elizabethan pieces was best ; in the age itself, on the stage as 
elsewhere, the comic faculty was paramount. Off the stage it showed itself in 
songs, stories, satires, essays, character-sketches and burlesques. Even the 
forms and mechanisms of English literature were changed. The cavaliers and 
courtiers had brought back from their exile acquired French tastes in literature, 
as in other matters. Experiments were made in the Tragedy of Rhymed Dec- 
lamation ; the syntax of English prose was to be neater and easier than it had 
been ; and the English metrical ear was to be tuned to stricter and more regular 
rhythms. Over this rising popular literature of the Restoration thft nominal 
president was Davenant, the reinstated Laureate ; but the robust Dryden was 
making his way to the chief place in the drama and in other departments, with 
Buckinghams, Dorsets and Howards about him, and Ethereges, Wycherlys and 
Shadwells appearing on the horizon, Butler's Hudibras was out, and Charles 
and his courtiers were, laughing over it. 

On the verge of this new world of the Restoration, disowned by it, and dis- 
daining it, the blind Milton lived— 

" On evil days now fallen, and evil tongues. 
In darkness, and with dangers compassed round. 
And solitude." 

Such friends as did still come about him were chiefly Nonconformists of the 
more devout and extreme sects. Independents, Baptists, or Quakers. One was 
Alderman Isaac Pennington, once Lord Mayor of London, and recently, as mem- 
ber of the Long Parliament and of the Council of State, a prominent man in the 
Commonwealth. Andrew Marvell, young Lawrence, Marchamount Needham, 
Cyriack Skinner, and the high-minded Lady Ranelagh, sister of Robert Boyle, 
who had been among his most frequent visitors in the house in Petty France, 
would find their way occasionally as far as Jewin Street. Dr. Paget, a physician 
of that neighbourhood, was very intimate with him ; and his old friend Hartlib 
would appear sometimes, bringing some foreigner who desired to be introduced. 
Such visits to Milton by foreigners, it seems, had become customan- ; they did not 
like to leave London without having seen him, and even the house in Bread Street 
where he had been born. Still " solitude," the word which Milton himself uses, 
describes his condition too truly. The house in Jewin Street must have been a 
small one ; and, as Milton had now no official income, and had lost by the 
Restoration several thousands of pounds, invested in Commonwealth securities, 



s- ^ 



xliv MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

or others as bad, the economy of his household must have been veiy frugal. He 
had always a man or a boy to read to him, write to his dictation, and lead him 
al)out in his walks ; one or other of his two nephews, now shifting for them- 
selves in or near London by tutorship and literary hackwork, would sometimes 
drop in, and yield him superior help ; and there were young men ready to volun- 
teer their occasional services as amanuenses for the privilege of his conversation 
or of lessons from him. The young Quaker, Thomas Ellwood, recommended 
to him by Alderman Pennington and Dr. Paget, made his acquaintance this way 
in Jewin Street, in 1662, valuing the privilege much, and taking a lodging near 
on purpose. For the management of his house and of his daily life, however, 
Milton had to depend on his daughters, and the dependence was a sad one. 
The poor girls, the eldest in her seventeenth year in 1 662, the next in her fifteenth, 
and the youngest in her eleventh, had been growing up ill looked-after, and, 
though one does hear of a governess, but slenderly educated. The eldest, the 
deformed one, could not write ; the other two could write but indifferently 
But, though he can therefore hardly have employed them as amanuenses, he did 
exact from them attendance which they found irksome. When no one else was 
at hand, |je would make them, or at least the two younger, read to him ; and by 
some extraordinary ingenuity in his method, or by sheer practice on their part, 
they came at last to be able to read sufficiently well for his purpose in Latin, 
Greek, Italian, French, Spanish, and even Hebrew, without themselves under- 
standing a word. This drill, as far as the youngest daughter was concerned, can 
have been little more than begun in the Jewin Street house ; but there all three 
were already in rebellion. They " made nothing of deserting him ;" " they did 
combine together and counsel his maid-servant to cheat him in her marketings ;" 
they " had made away with some of his books, and would have sold the rest to the 
dunghill-women." Things had at last come to such a pass that, on the recom- 
mendation of Dr. Paget, Milton, Feb. 12, 1662-3. married a third wife. She was 
an Elizabeth Minshull, from Cheshire, a relation of Dr. Paget's, and not more 
than twenty-five years of age, Milton being fifty-four. A very excellent and 
careful wife she was to prove to him through the rest of his life. When Mary, 
the second daughter, heard of the intended marriage, she said " that that was no 
news, to hear of his wedding, but, if she could hear of his death, that was some- 
thing." This, which is certified on oath, is almost too horrible for belief. 

A small elementary Latin Grammar, published in 1661, under the title of 
"Accedence Commenced Grammar " is all of a literary kind that came from 
Milton while he was in Holborn or Jewin Street. It had doubtless been long lying 
by him. Other works, however, had been in progress, especially Paradise Lost. 

ARTILLERY WALK, BUNHILL FIELDS. 

1664 — 1674; cetat. 56 — 66. 

Not long after his third marriage (possibly in 1663, though I make it :664), 
Milton left Jewin Street for what was to be the last of all his London houses. 



%■ 



S- ~(h 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xlv 

It was in " Artillery Walk, leading- to Bunhill Fields," /. e., as has been ascer- 
tained with some trouble, in that part of the present Bunhill Row where there is 
now a clump of newer houses " to the left of the passenger who turns northward 
from Chiswell Street towards St. Luke's Hospital and Peerless Pool." It was 
close to the Artillery Ground, or exercising-place of the old London Trained 
Bands ; and hence the name. Bunhill Fields Burying Ground, long the place 
of sepulture for London Dissenters, and where Bunyan and Defoe are buried, did 
not exist when Milton went to the neighbourhood. On the whole, the remove, 
though it did not take him far from his former residence, was into greater privacy 
and obscurity. The three daughters still accompanied him, better managers 
now that the third wife had the charge of the housekeeping, but naturally in 
warfare with her. 

Of Milton's habits, in his house near Bunhill Fields, through the last ten 
years of his life, we have pretty distinct accounts from various persons, as fol- 
lows : — He used to get up very early, generally at four o'clock in summer and 
five in winter. After having a chapter or two of the Hebrew Bible read to him, 
he worked, first in meditation by himself, and then, after breakfast, by dictation 
to his amanuensis for the time being, interspersed with farther readings to him 
from the books he wanted to consult, till near his mid-day dinner. A good 
part of the afternoon was then given to walking in the garden (and a garden of 
some kind had been always a requisite with him), or to playing on the organ, 
and singing, or hearing his wife sing, within doors. His wife, he said, had a 
good voice, but no ear. Later in the afternoon he resumed work ; but about six 
o'clock he was ready to receive evening visitors, and to talk with them till about 
eight, when there was a supper of " olives or some light thing." He was very 
temperate at meals, drinking very little " wine or strong liquors of any kind "; 
but his conversation at dinner and supper was very pleasant and cheerful, with 
a tendency to the satirical. This humour for satire was connected by some of his 
hearers with his strong way of pronouncing the letter r : " litera cam'na, the 
dog-letter, the certain sign of a satirical wit," as Dryden said to Aubrey when 
they were talking of this personal trait of Milton. After supper, when left to 
himself, he smoked his pipe and drank a glass of water before going to bed ; 
which was usually at nine o'clock. " He was visited by the learned," said 
Aubrey, " much more than he did desire," Aubrey himself and Dryden being 
latterly among those who went sometimes to see him. He attended no church, 
nor belonged to no communion ; nor had he any regular prayers in his family, 
having some principle of his own on that subject which his friends did not 
understand. His favourite attitude in dictating was sitting somewhat aslant in 
an elbow-chair, with his leg thrown over one of the arms. He v.'ould dictate 
his verses, thirty or forty at a time, to any one that happened to be at hand ; but 
his two younger daughters. Mary and Deborah, whom he had by this time per- 
fected in the art of reading to him in all languages without understanding 
what they read, had more than their share in such daily drudgery with him 
over his books. His poetical vein, Phillips tells us, flowed most happily " from 



^ 



4 



s ^ 



xlvi MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

the autumnal equinox to the vernal," /. c, from the end of September to the end 
of March, so that, with all his exertions through the other half of the year, he 
was never so well satisfied with the results. His poor health, and frequent 
headaches and other pains, were another interference with his work, but less 
than might have been supposed. Gout was his most confirmed ailment, and it 
begun to stiffen his hands. 

And so at last, before Milton had been two years in the house in Artillery 
Walk, Paradise Lost had been completed. For, when the Great Plague broke 
out in London in 1665, and Milton (perhaps driven from his house by the fact 
that Bunhill Fields had been chosen as a " pest-field " where the dead could be 
buried in pits) went to spend the summer in a cottage which Ellwood had 
taken for him at Chalfont-St. -Giles, Buckinghamshire, he took the finished 
manuscript with him. That country-cottage, therefore, has to be remembered, 
in this exact place, and with this interesting association, as one of Milton's resi- 
dences. It still exists, a very small cottage, indeed, with a very small garden, 
standing on the slope of the public road at one end of the quiet old village of 
Chalfont ; and, when it was in good tending and there were honeysuckles about 
it, the summer air in its tiny rooms, with the lattices open, may have been 
pleasant. The old lattices, with their lozenges of glass set in lead, still remained 
when I was there ; but the cottage was empty and to let. A few pounds, I 
suppose, would buy it altogether. 

Back in London in 1666, Milton may have been prevented from publishing 
his Paradise Lost in that " Annus Mirabilis " by the Great Fire. It did not 
reach, indeed, to his neighbourhood ; but it left a vast space of the city in ruins, 
with his native Bread Street in the very heart of the space. From that date 
there could be no more visits of admiring foreigners to the old " Spread Eagle," 
where he had been born ; but all his other London residences remained. In 
1667. the year after the Fire, the due licence having been obtained and other 
arrangements made, the epic was published. The publication must have been 
an event of some consequence to Milton personally. It threv/ between him and 
all that past part of his life which lay under public obloquy the atonement of a 
gjeat Poem. Whatever he had been, was he not now the author of Paradise 
Lost? Gradually, as the poem was read, though here and there some of the 
poorer creatures put in their sarcasms, this was the feeling among all the abler 
leaders of the Restoration Literature itself. " This man cuts us all out, and the 
ancients too," is reported to have been Dryden's immediate criticism ; and it 
was probably after Dryden had read th2 poem, and said this, that he first sought 
out Milton. Indeed, it was probably after the fame of Paradise Lost was estab- 
lished that the straggling of admiring visitors, especially foreigners, to Milton's 
house, which had followed him ever since the Restoration, swelled into that con- 
flux of the learned about him, "much more than he did desire," of which 
Aubrey speaks. Certain it is that Dryden, not nearly yet at his best in the 
world, but the manliest and greatest figure already in the whole society of the 
Restoration wits, had contracted a profound reverence for the blind Repub- 

t^ ^ 



s- ^ -^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xlvii 

lican, from which he never swerved, and to which on every possible occa- 
sion he gave the most generous expression. As Dryden was appointed to 
the Laureateship in 1670, in succession to Davenant, who had died in 1668, 
it was an odd fact, at which Dryden would have been the first to smile, that 
he could count Milton for a time among his literary subjects. The last four 
or five years of Milton's life were the first four or five of Dryden's Laureate- 
ship, and they include the following interesting series of publications by Mil- 
ton : his History of Britain to the Conquest, with his portrait by Faithorne 
prefixed, 1670 ; his Paradise Regained and Samson Agonist es together, 

1671 ; his Latin treatise on Logic, according to the system of Ramus, entitled, 
" Artis Logicce Plenior Instiiniio, ad Petri Rami Methodum Concinnata'' 

1672 (probably an old performance lying among his MSS.) ; his English tract 
" 0/ true Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and what best meaiis may be 
nscd against the growth of Popery," 1673 ; the Second Edition of his Minor 
Poems, 1673; the Second Edition of Paradise Lost, 1674; a translation of 
Letters Pate7it for the Election of Johfi IIL [Sobieski], King of Poland, 1674; 
his EpistolcB Familiares, with his juvenile Prolusiones Oratorice at Cambridge 
added, 1674. There is evidence in the number of these publications, and in the 
nature of some of them, that Milton's name prefixed to a book was again of 
some value. 

To complete our formal chronology of the Poems we have now only to ex- 
tricate from among the productions of the ten years in Artillery Walk, Bunhill 
Fields, the following separately : — 

Paradise Lost. 1667. Re-edited 1674. 

Two Scraps of translated Verse fi-om Geoffrey of Monmouth, in History of Britain 

(annexed now to the Minor English Poems). 1670. 
Paradise Regained. 1671. 
Samson Agonistes. 1671. 

During the last four or five years of Milton's life his three daughters had ceased 
to reside with him. In or about 1669, the eldest being then twenty-three years 
of age and the youngest seventeen, they had all, by what seems to have been a 
really judicious arrangement of their step-mother, been sent out, at their father's 
expense, " to learn some curious and ingenious sorts of manufacture that are 
"proper for women to learn, particularly embroideries in gold and silver." 
From that time, therefore, Milton and his wife Elizabeth had been by them- 
selves in the house near Bunhill Fields, with one maid-servant. It was prob- 
ably the calmest time in Milton's life for many a day. Our best glimpse of him 
in those closing years is from the Notes of the painter Richardson. " An aged 
" clergyman of Dorsetshire," he says, " found John Milton in a small chamber 
" hung with rusty green, sitting in an elbow chair, and dressed neatly in black ; 
" pale, but not cadaverous ; his hands and fingers gouty, and with chalk-stones. 
" He used also to sit in a grey coarse cloth coat at the door of his house near 
«' Bunhill Fields in warm, sunny weather ; and so, as well as in his house, 



s -^ 



xlviii MEMOIR OF MILTON. 

" received the visits of people of distinguished parts, as well as quality." A 
day soon came when the slight figure in coarse grey was no more to be seen by 
the inhabitants of the obscure neighbourhood. He died peacefully, of what was 
called "gout struck in," on Sunday, Nov. 8, 1674, aged sixty-five years and 
eleven months ; and he was buried, Nov. 12, beside his father, in the church of St. 
Giles, Cripplegate, attended to the grave by " all his learned and great friends 
in London, not without a friendly concourse of the vulgar." Andrew Marvell, 
who may have been among the mourners, promised Aubrey to write some 
account of Milton to be sent to Anthony Wood for his Fasti Oxonienses ; but, 
Marvell having died in 1678, without having fulfilled the promise, Aubrey him- 
self collected what information he could from Milton's widow, his brother, the 
elder Phillips a.nd others. 

POSTHUMOUS DETAILS. 

Milton, before his death, estimated his estate at about 1,000/. in money, 
besides household goods. Actually about 900/. in money (worth about 
2,700/. now) was the sum at once realized. It was the subject of litigation 
between the widow and the three daughters. A few months before his death, 
Milton, in a conversation with his brother Christopher, then a bencher of the 
Inner Temple, had signified his intentions as to the disposition of his property 
thus ; " The portion due ta me from Mr. Powell, my former [first] wife's 
" father, I leave to the unkind children I had by her, having received no part of 
" it ; but my meaning is that they shall have no other benefit of my estate than 
" the said portion and what I have besides done for them, they having been very 
" undutiful to me. All the rest of my estate I leave to the disposal of Eliza- 
'• beth, my loving wife." For the right understanding of this, it is to be 
explained that there was due to Milton's estate a promised marriage-portion of 
1,000/. w'ith his first wife, and arrears of interest on the same since 1643, and 
that, though there had been little prospect of a recovery of the money at Mr. 
Powell's death in 1647, the Powell family were now in circumstances to bear 
the debt, and were under obligations to do so by Mr. Powell's will. Milton's 
meaning, therefore, was that his daughters should have a claim on their rela- 
tives, the Powells, for the 1,000/. and arrears of their grandfather's money, 
while his widow should have the whole of his own actual estate. The daugh- 
ters, however, probably with the Powells urging them (their grandmother, Mrs. 
Powell, was still alive), disputed the "nuncupative" or word-of-mouth will of 
their father, alleging that they had been and were " great frequenters of the 
church and good livers ;" and insinuating that their uncle Christopher had an 
interest in upholding the will, inasmuch as there was a private understanding 
that the widow should hand over to his children, according to a desire which 
the deceased had expressed, any overplus that the estate might yield above 
1,000/. The result was that, though there was perfect evidence of the facts, it. 
was decided (Feb., 1674-5) o^i technical grounds, that the widow should have 
two-thirds and the daughters one-third among them. The widow acquiesced, 

i^ '. ^ 



a ^ 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. xlix 

and punctually paid to the three daughters about loo/. each, having about 600/. 
left for herself. She was then thirty-seven years of age, and the money would 
yield her a meagre annuity. 

The widow, after remaining in London for some years, retired to Nantwich, 
in her native Cheshire, where she lived to as late as 1727, a pious member of a 
Baptist congregation, having survived her husband nearly fifty-three years. 
The inventory of her effects at her death has been recovered, and shows that she 
retained to the last some trinkets that had belonged to Milton, and two juvenile 

portraits of him. Milton's eldest daughter, Anne, " lame, and with a defect 

in her speech, but with a very handsome face," married "a master-builder," 
and died in her first childbirth, the child dying also. Mary, the second daugh- 
ter, never married, and was dead before 1694. Deborah, the youngest and the 
best, and " very like her father," had gone to Dublin, as companion to a lady, 
before her father's death, and married there an Abraham Clarke, described as 
a weaver or silk-mercer. They came to London about 1687, and settled in the 
weaving business in Spitalfields. She lived till 1727, and was visited in her later 
years by Addison and others, who were much pleased with her, and whom she 
surprised by repeating stray lines she remembered from Homer, Euripides and 
Ovid. The Princess Caroline of Wales sent her fifty guineas. Of her ten 
children, only two survived to have issue. A son, Caleb Clarke, had gone to 
Madras before 1703, and had died as "parish-clerk of Fort George" in 1719, 
leaving progeny who are supposed to have all died out in India. The last trace 
of them is the registration at Madras, April 2, 1727, of the birth of a daughter 
of Abraham Clarke, the son of Caleb (/. e., a great-great-granddaughter of 
Milton, actually born while Milton's widow was still alive at Nantwich) ; but 
there is just a possibility that there was other and farther descent from Milton in 
these Indian Clarkes. Otherwise, the direct descent from Milton ended in his 
granddaughter, Elizabeth Clarke, the youngest daughter of Deborah. She mar- 
ried a Thomas Foster, a Spitalfields weaver ; she afterwards kept " a small chand- 
ler's shop " in Holloway ; she removed thence to Shoreditch, where she and her 
husband had some little dispute in 1750 as to the investment of about 130/., the 
proceeds of a performance of Comus, which Dr. Johnson and others had got 
up for her benefit ; and she died in Islington in 1754. She struck those who 
visited her as "a good, plain, sensible woman," in very infirm health. Seven 
children of hers had all died in infancy. Christopher Milton, the poet's lawyer- 
brother, but who had always been opposite to him in politics, was not only a 
bencher of the Inner Temple at the time of his brother's death, but also Deputy- 
Recorder of Ipswich. In the reign of James II., having pushed his compliance 
so far as to turn Roman Catholic, he became Sir Christopher Milton, Knt., and 
a Judge. At the Revolution he retired into private life at or near Ipswich, 
where he died in 1692, in his seventy-seventh year. He left a son, Thomas Milton, 
and two or three daughters, who are traced some way into the eighteenth century. 
So far as is known, the Milton pedigree was transmitted farthest and most re- 
spectably in the descent from Milton's sister Anne, who was first Mrs. Phillips and 

^ ^ 



^ ^ 



1 MEMOIR OF AflLTON. 

afterwards Mrs. Agar, and wlio seems to have died some years before the poet, 
leaving Mr. Agar still alive. Her two sons by the first marriage, Edward and 
John Phillips, Milton's two nephews, and educated by him (John wholly, but with 
two years at Oxford added in Edward's case), can "hardly, indeed, be reckoned 
among fortunate men. They struggled on cleverly and industriously, but never 
very prosperously, in private tutorship, schoolmastering, and hack authorship ; 
and their numerous publications in prose and verse, lists of which have been 
made out, are among the curiosities of the minor literature of England in the 
latter half of the seventeenth century. Edward died not long after 1694, in 
which year he had published his brief, but valuable, " Life of Milton," prefixed 
to an English translation of Milton's State Letters ; John, who seems to have 
been the less reputable in his life and the more reckless in the spirit and style of 
his writings, was ahve till 1706. Their families have not been traced. Mean- 
while, their half sister, Ann Agar, their mother's only surviving child by her 
second marriage, had carried the pedigree, in more flourishing circumstances, 
into another line, with another change of name. Her father, Mr. Thomas 
Agar, resuming his post of Deputy Clerk of the Crown at the Restoration, had 
come to be a man of some wealth ; and, before his death in 1673 (when he was 
succeeded in his office by Thomas Milton, the son of Christopher), she had 
married a David Moore, of Sayes House, Chertsey, in the county of Surrey, Esq. 
From this marriage came a Thomas Moore, of Sayes House, who was knighted 
in 171 5; and from him have descended, branching out by intermarriages, a 
great iwax\-^ Moore s andFitsmoores, traceable in the squirearchy, the church, or 
the public service of England, to the present day. All these are related to 
Milton in so far as they are descended from his sister, the mother of the " Fair 
Infant" of his early Elegy. 

In 1682, eight years after Milton's death, there was published from his 
manuscript a compilation called "A Brief History of Moscoria, and of other 
less known coiintries lying eastward of Russia as far as Cathay." The col- 
lections he had made towards a Latin Dictionary went into the hands of Edward 
Phillips, were used by Phillips in some compilations of his own, and hav'e been 
embodied in subsequent Dictionaries. Two packets of manuscript left by Mil- 
ton, about the fate of which he was somewhat anxious, Vv^ere his Latin System 
of Divinity drawn direct from the Bible, and his Latin Letters of State to For- 
eign Powers, written in his Secretaryship to the Commonwealth and Pro- 
tectorate. These packets he had entrusted to one of his latest amanuenses, a 
young Cambridge man, Daniel Skinner, a relative of his friend Cyriack. They 
were conveyed by Skinner to Amsterdam for publication by Daniel Elzevir ; but, 
the English Government having heard of them, the publication was stopped, and 
they were sent back to London in a brown-paper parcel, which was thrown 
aside in the State Paper Office. This was in 1676; in which year, however, a 
London bookseller, who had somehow obtained imperfect copies of the Latin 
State Letters, published a surreptitious edition of them, entitled Literce Psetido- 
Senatics Anglicant, necnon Croniwelli, nomine et jussu Conscriptce. A better 

■^ -^ 



cB"^ *-67 



MEMOIR OF MILTON. li 

edition was printed at Leipsic in 1690, and Phillips' English translation appeared 
in 1694. Quite different from these Milton State Letters, though sometimes 
called The Milton Papers, is a thin folio edited in 1743 by John Nickolls, and 
consisting of Letters and Addresses to Cromwell, and other public and private 
documents, from 1650 onwards, which had somehow been in Milton's keeping, 
and which were afterwards in possession of the Quaker Elhvood. Finally, in 1 825, 
attention having been at last called to the brown-paper parcel that had been 
lying in the State Paper Office since 1676, Milton's long lost treatise De Doctrind 
CJirisiiand, part of the contents of the parcel, was published by Dr. Sumner, 
afterwards Bishop of Winchester, with the addition of an English translation in 
the same year. It is from this treatise that Milton's theological opinions, so far 
as they could be expressed in formal and systematic language, are to be most 
authentically learnt. The original manuscript of the treatise in the hands of 
several of Milton's amanuenses, and the transcript for press of his State Letters 
in the hand of Daniel Skinner, are still in the State Paper Office. 



^ ^ 



f^ 



Paradise Lost. 



,ffl >"';,! 



THE VERSE OF "PARAD[SE LOST." 

"The measure is English Heroic Verse without Rime," as that of Homer in Greek, and 
of Virgil in Latin; Rime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good 
Verse, in longer Works Cbpecially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched 
matter and lame Meeter; grac't indeed since by the use of some famous modern Poets, 
carried away by Custom, but much to thir own vexation, hindrance, and constraint, to ex- 
press many things otherwise, and for the most part worse than else they would have exprest 
them. Not without cause, therefore, some both Italian and Spanish Poats of prime note, 
have rejected Rime bo.h in longer and shorter Works, as have also, long slnc2, our best 
English Tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious eares, triveal and of no true musical 
delight; which consists only in apt Numbers, fit quantity of Syllables, and the sense variously 
drawn out from one verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings, a fault 
avoyded by the learned Ancients both in Poetry and all good Oratory. This neglect then 
of Rime, so little is to be taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar 
readers, that it rather is to be esteem'd an example set, the first in English, ofancient liberty 
recover'd to Heroic Poem from the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing." 

From Milton's own Edition, 1669. 

BOOK I. 

The Argument. 

This First Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, Man's disobedience, and the 
loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he was placed. Then touches the prime cause of his 
fall, the serpent, or rather Satan in the serpent ; who, revolting from God, and drawing to 
liis side many legions of Angels, was by the command of God driven out of heaven with all 
his crew into the great deep. Which action passed over, the Poem hastes into the midst of 
things, presenting Satan with his Angels now fallen into hell, described here, not in the cen- 
tre, for heaven and earth m.ay be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed, but 
m a place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos. Here Satan with his Angels lying on the 
burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, 
calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him : they confer of their miserable fall. 
Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same manner confotmded ; they rise ; 



^ 



vb- 



<b 



2 PARADISE LOST. 

their numbers, array of battle, their chief leaders named, according to the idols known after- 
wards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech, comforts 
them with hope yet of regaining heaven, but tells them lastly of a new world and new kind 
of creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in heaven; for that 
Angels were long before this visible creation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To 
find out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council . 
What his associates thence attempt. Pandaemonium, the palace of Satan, rises, suddenly 
built out of the deep : the infernal Peers there sit in council. 

Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit 

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 

Brought death into the world and all our woe, 

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 

Restore us and regain the blissful seat, 

Sing heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top 

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 

That shepherd,^ who first taught the chosen seed, 

In the beginning how the heav'ns and earth 

Rose out of Chaos ; or if Sion hill 

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook^ that fliow'd 

Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence 

Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song, 

That with no middle flight intends to soar 

Above th' Aonian mount,^ while it pursues 

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 

And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 
Before a"ll temples th' upright heart and pure, 
Instruct me, for thou know'st ; thou from the first 
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss,* 
And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark 
Illumine, what is low raise and support ; 
That to the height of this great argument 
I may assert eternal Providence, 



1 Moses. 

2 A small brook that flowed near the Temple of Jerusalem. 

3 A mountain in Boeotia. In mythology, the Muses were said to dwell on it. 
* Gen. i. 2. 

b- •- ^ -# 



€7 



PARADISE LOST. 

And justify the ways of God to men. 

Say first, for heav'n hides nothing from thy vieWj 
Nor the deep tract of hell — say first, what cause 
Moved our grand Parents in that happy state, 
Favour'd of heaven so highly, to fall off 
From their Creator, and transgress his will 
For one lestraint, lords of the world besides? 
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? 
Th' infernal serpent ; he it was, whose guile, 
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived 
The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
Had cast him out from heav'n, with all his host 
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring 
To set himself in glory above his peers, 
He trusted to have^quall'd the Most High/ 
If he opposed; and with ambitious aim 
Against the throne and monarchy of God 
Raised impious war in heav'n, and battle proud, 
With vain attempt. Him the almighty Power 
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, 
With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. 
Nine times the space that measures day and night 
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf. 
Confounded though immortal : but his doom 
Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 
Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, 
Mix'd with obdurate pride and stedfast hate. 
At once, as far as angels ken, he views 

^ Isaiah xiv. 13-15. 



■fr 



4> 



^ -^ 

4 PARADISE LOST. 

The dismal situation waste and wild ; 

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, 

As one great furnace, flamed ; yet from those flames 

No light, but rather darkness visible 

Served only to discover sights of woe, 

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes/ 

That comes to all ; but torture without end 

Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 

With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. 

Such place eternal justice had prepared 

For those rebellious ; here their prison ordain'd 

In utter darkness, and their portion set 

As far removed from God and light of heav'n, 

As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole, 

O how unlike the place from whence they fell ,' 

There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd 

With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 

He soon discerns, and welt'ring by his side 

One next himself in power, and next in crime, 

Long after known in Palestine, and named 

Beelzebub :^ To whom th' arch-enemy, 

And thence in heav'n call'd Satan,^ with bold words 

Breaking the horrid silence, thus began. 

If thon beest he — But O how fall'n ! how changed 
From him, who in the happy realms of light. 
Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine 
Myriads, though bright ! If he, whom mutual league. 
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 



1 "Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' intrate," was the inscription placed by Dante over the 
gates of his "Inferno." 

'■* The god of flies, worshipped by the Philistines (a Kings i. 2). The Jews considered 
Beelzebub the greatest of the devils. See their accusation of our Lord, St. Matt. xii. 24-27; 
where it appears that with them Beelzebub and < 'Satan" were synonymous names. Milton 
makes them two different fallen angels. 

3 Satan is a Hebrew word, signifying "enemy." T/tecnemy both of God and man, 

^ ■ -^ 



^ — . 

PARADISE LOST. 5 

And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 

Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 

In equal ruin : into what pit thou seest 

From what height fall'n, so much the stronger proved 

He with his thunder; and till then who knew 

The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those, 

Nor what the potent victor in his rage 

Can else inflict, do I repent, or change. 

Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind 

And high disdain from sense of injured merit. 

That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 

And to the fierce contention brought along 

Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd, 

That durst dislike his reign ; and, me preferring, 

His utmost power with adverse power opposed 

In dubious battle on the plains of heav'n, 

And shook his throne. What though the field be lost ? 

All is not lost ; th' unconquerable will, 

And study of revenge, immortal hate 

And courage never to submit or yield, 

And what is else not to be overcome ; 

That glory never shall his wrath or might 

Extort from me : to bow and sue for grace 

With suppliant knee, and deify his power. 

Who from the terror of this arm so late 

Doubted his empire, that were low indeed, 

That were an ignominy and shame beneath 

This downfall ; since by fate the strength of Gods 

And this empyreal substance cannot fail ; 

Since through experience of this great event, 

In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 

We may with more successful hope resolve 

To wage by force or guile eternal war, 

Irreconcileable to our grand foe. 

Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy 

Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heav'n. 

^ & 



^ 



^ 



6 PARADISE LOST. 

So spake th' apostate Angel, though in pain, 
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair : 
And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer. 
O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers. 
That led th' imbattell'd Seraphim to war 
Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 
Fearless, endanger'd heav'n's perpetual King, 
And put to proof his high supremacy; 
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate. 
Too well I see and rue the dire event. 
That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 
Hath lost us heav'n, and all this mighty host 
In horrible destruction laid thus low, 
As far as Gods and heavenly essences 
Can perish : for the mind and spirit remains 
Invincible, and vigor soon returns, 
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
Here swallow'd up in endless misery. 
But what if he our conqueror, whom I now 
Of force believe almighty, since no less 
• Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours, 
Has left us this our spirit and strength entire. 
Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 
Or do him mightier service, as his thralls 
By right of war, whate'er his business be. 
Here in the heart of hell to work in fire. 
Or do his errands in the gloomy deep : 
What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being 
To undergo eternal punishment ? 
Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend replied. 

Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable, 
Doing or suffering : but of this be sure, 
To do ought good never will be our task, 
1 But ever to do ill our sole delight ; 



^ 



PARADISE LOST, 

As being the contrary to his high will, 

Whom we resist. If then his providence 

Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 

Our labor must be to pervert that end, 

And out of good still to find means of evil ; 

Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 

Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 

His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 

But sec ! the angry victor hath recall'd 

His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 

Back to the gates of heav'n : the sulphurous hail, 

Shot after us in storm, o'erblown hath laid 

The fiery surge, that from the precipice 

Of heav'n received us falling, and the thunder, 

Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, 

Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 

To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 

Let us not slip th' occasion, whether Scorn 

Or satiate fury yield it from our foe. 

Secst thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild. 

The seat of desolation, void of light, 

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 

Casts pale and dreadful ? thither let us tend 

From off the tossing of these fiery waves, 

There rest, if any rest can harbor there, 

And, reassembling our afflicted powers. 

Consult how we may henceforth most offend 

Our enemy, our own loss how repair, 

How overcome this dire calamity. 

What reinforcement we may gain from hope, 

If not, what resolution from despair. 

Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate, 
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long and large. 
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge 



^ 



■^ 



8 PARADISE LOST. 

As whom the fables name of monstrous size, 

Titanian, or Earth-born, that warred on Jove/ 

Briareus, or Typhon, whom the den 

By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast 

Leviathan, which God of all his works 

Created hugest that swim th' ocean stream ; 

Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam 

The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff 

Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell. 

With fixed anchor in his scaly rind 

Moors by his side under the lee, while night 

Invests the sea, and wished morn delays^ 

So stretched out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay, 

Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence 

Had risen or heaved his head, but that the will 

And high permission of all-ruling heaven 

Left him at large to his own dark designs ; 

That with reiterated crimes he might 

Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 

Evil to others, and enraged might see 

How all his malice served but to bring forth 

Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy shown 

On man by him seduced ; but on himself 

Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance pour'd. 

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 

His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames 

Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd 

In billows leave i' th' midst a horrid vale. 

Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 

Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air. 

That felt unusual weight, till on dry land 

He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd 

1 The Titans were monstrous giants, said to have made war against the gods. Rriareus 
had a hundred hands. Typhon was the same as Typhoeus, who was imprisoned by Jupiter 
in a cave near Tarsus, in Cihcia. 

* The whale is evidently here intended. 

4) ^ 




Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
His mighty stature. 



Page 8. 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 9 

With solid, as the lake with liquid, fire ; 

And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 

Of subterranean wind transports a hill 

Torn from Pelorus,^ or the shatter'd side 

Of thund'ring yEtna, whose combustible 

And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire. 

Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds. 

And leave a singed bottom, all involved 

With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 

Of unbless'd feet. Him follow'd his next mate. 

Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood. 

As Gods, and by their own rccover'd strength, 

Not by the sufferance of supernal power. 

Is this the region, this the soil, the clime 
Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the seat 
That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom 
For that celestial light? be it so, since he. 
Who now is Sov' reign, can dispose and bid 
What shall be right : farthest from him is best, 
Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme 
Above his equals. Farewell happy fields, 
Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors ; hail 
Infernal world ; and thou profoundest hell 
Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings 
A mind not to be changed by place or time. 
The mind is its own place, and in itself 
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.^ 
What matter where, if I be still the same. 
And what I should be, all but less than he 
Whom thunder hath made greater ? here at least 
We shall be free ; th' Almighty hath not built 
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 



Capo di Faro, in Sicily. ' " There 's nothing either good or bad, but 

Thinking makes it so." — Shakespeare. 



^ ^ ^^ 



^ ■ -^ 

lo PARADISE LOST. 

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice 
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell : 
Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav'n. 
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
Th' associates and copartners of our loss, 
Lie thus astonish'd on th' oblivious pool, 
And call them not to share with us their part' . 
In this unhappy mansion ; or once more 
With rallied arms to try what may be yet 
Regain'd in heav'n, or what more lost in hell ? 

So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
Thus answer'd : Leader of those armies bright. 
Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd, 
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
Of battle when it raged, in all assaults 
Their surest signal, they will soon resume 
New courage and revive, though now they lie 
Grov'ling and prostrate on yon lake of fire. 
As we erewhile, astounded and amazed. 
No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth.^ 

He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend 
Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, 
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 
Behind him cast; the broad circumference 
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist^ views 
At ev'ning, from the top of Fesole 
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lauds, 
Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe. 
His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, 



1 Height. 

2 Galileo, Milton became acquainted with the great astronomer when travelling in Italy 
Optic-glass was the name given then and some lime after to the telescope. 

^^— ^ 



a- ^ ^ — -^ 

PARADISE LOST. ii 

Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast 

Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand, 

He walk'd with to support uneasy steps 

Over the burning marie, not like those steps 

On heaven's azure, and the torrid clime 

Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire. 

Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 

Of that inflamed sea he stood and call'd 

His legions, Angel forms, who lay entranced, 

Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 

In Vallombrosa/ where th' Etrurian shades 

High overarch'd embower ; or scatter'd sedge 

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd ^ 

Hath vex'd the Red-sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 

Busiris ^ and his Memphian chivalry, 

While with perfidious hatred they pursued 

The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 

From the safe shore their floating- carcases 

And broken chariot wheels : so thick bestrown 

Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood, 

Under amazement of their hideous change. 

He called so loud, that all the hollow deep 

Of hell resounded : Princes, Potentates, 

Warriors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost. 

If such astonishment as this can seize 

Eternal spirits ; or have ye chosen this place 

After the toil of battle to repose 

Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 

To slumber here, as in the vales of heav'n ? 

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 

To adore the conqueror ? who now beholds 



1 In Tuscany. 

2 Orion is the constellation representing an armed warrior. "It was supposed to be at- 
tended with stormy weather. 'Assurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion.' ViB. ^n. 1. S39-"— 
Newton. 

3 The Pharaoh of Exodus xiv. 

4- -—4^ 



a- 



<b 



12 PARADISE LOST. 

Cherub and Seraph rolHng in the flood 
With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon 
His swift pursuers from heav'n gates discern 
Th' advantage, and descending tread us down 
Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf. 
Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n. 

They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung 
Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch 
On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, 
Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 
In which they w^ere, or the fierce pains not feel ; 
Yet to their General's voice they soon obey'd, 
Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
Of Amram's Son, in Egypt's evil day, 
Waved round the coast up call'd a pitchy cloud 
Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, 
That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile ■} 
So numberless were those bad angels seen 
Hovering on wing under the cope of hell, 
'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; 
Till, as a signal given, th' uplifted spear 
Of their great Sultan waving to direct 
Their course, in even balance down they light 
On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 
A multitude like which the populous north* 
Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass 



1 Exodus X. 15. 

2 The "populous north," as the northern parts of the world are observed to be more fruitful 
of people than the hotter countries. Sir William Temple calls it " the northern hive." 
"Poured never ; " a very proper word to express the inundations of these northern nations. 
"From her frozen loins ;" it is the Scripture expression of children and descendants "coming 
out of the loins," as Gen. xxxv. 11, "Kings shall come out of thy loins ;" and these are called 
frozen loins only on acci^unt of the coldness of the climate. — Newton. 



^ 



--^:^ 




They heard, and were abashed, and up they sprung 



Page 12. 



* 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 13 

Rhene or the Danaw/ when her barbarous sons''^ 

Came hke a deluge on the south, and spread 

Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. 

Forthwith from ev'ry squadron and each band 

The heads and leaders thither haste, where stood 

Their great Commander ; God-like shapes and forms 

Excelling human, Princely Dignities, 

And powers, that erst in heaven sat on thrones ; 

Though of their names in heavenly records now 

Be no memorial, blotted out and razed 

By their rebellion from the books of life.^ 

Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 

Got them new names ; till wand'ring o'er the earth, 

Through God's high sufferance for the trial of man, 

By falsities and lies the greatest part 

Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 

God their creator, and th' invisible 

Glory of him that made them to transform 

Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd 

With gay religions full of pomp and gold. 

And Devils to adore for Deities •} 

Then were they known to men by various names. 

And various idols through the heathen world. 

Say, Muse, their namss then known, who firjt, who last, 

1 "To pass Rhene or the Danaw." He ir.ight have said, consistenlly with his verse, the 
Rhine or Danube, but he- chose the more uncommon names, Rhene, of the Latin, and 
Danaw, of the German, both which words are used too, in Spenser. — Newton. 

2 "When her barbarous sorss," &c. They were truly barbarous ; for besides exercising 
several cruelties, they destroyed all the monuments of learning and politeness wherever they 
came. " Came like a deluge." Spenser, describing the sime psople, has the same simile, 
"Faerie Queen, B. II. cant. ist. 15 : — 

".A.nd overflowed all countries far away, 
Like Noye's great flood, with their importune sway." 
They were the Goths and Huns, and Vandals, who overran all the southern provinces of 
Europe, and, crossing the Mediterranean beneath Gibraltar, landed in Africa, and spread 
themselves as f.ir as Libya. Beneath Gibraltar means more southward. — Newto.v, 
•■' Psalm ix. 5, 6. Rev. iii. 5. 
* Levit. xvii. 7. Psalm cvi. 37. 

^ ■ —^ 



-^ 



14 PARADISE LOST. 

Roused from the slumber on that fiery couch 

At their great Emp'ror's call, as next in worth, 

Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 

While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof? 

The chief were those, who, from the pit of hell 

Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 

Their seats long after next the seat of God, 

Their altars by his altar, Gods adored 

Among the nations round, and durst abide 

Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, throned 

Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 

Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, 

Abominations ;' and with cursed things 

His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 

And with their darkness durst affront his light. 

First Moloch, horrid King,^ besmear'd with blood 

Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears. 

Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 

Their children's cries unheard, that past through fire^ 

To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 

Worshipp'd in Rabba and her wat'ry plain, 

In Argob, and in Basan, to the stream 

Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such 

Audacious neighborhood, the wisest heart 

Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 

His temple right against the temple of God, 

On that opprobrious hill,* and made his grove 

The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence 

And black Gehenna call'd,^ the type of hell.^ 

1 Ezek. viii. 15, 16. 

2 The word Moloch, means King. He is styled horrid on account of the awful human 
sacrifices offered to him. 

3 Moloch was represented byan idol of brass sitting on a throne, crowned. Before him 
was a furnace. His extended arms sloped down to it. Infants placed in his arms fell into 
the furnace and were consumed. * i Kings xi. 7. 

5 It was called Tophet from toph, a drum, the noise of drums being employed to drown 
the cries of the poor babes offered to the idol. ^ Sq used by our Lord. 

^ •- -^ 



s- 



PARADISE LOST. 15 

Next Chemos/ th' obscene dread of Moab's sons, 

From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild 

Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon 

And Heronaim, Seon's realm, beyond 

The flow'ry dale of Sibma clad with vines, 

And Eleale, to the Asphaltic pool : 

Peor his other name, when he enticed 

Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 

To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. 

Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 

Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 

Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate; 

Till good Josiah^ drove them thence to hell. 

With these came they, who, from the bord'ring flood 

Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 

^gypt from Syrian ground, had general names 

Of Baalim and Ashtaroth,^ those male, 

These feminine : for spirits when they please 

Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft 

And uncompounded is their essence pure; 

Nor tied or manacled with joint or limb, 

Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones. 

Like cumbrous flesh ; but in what shape they choose. 

Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, ^ 

Can execute their airy purposes. 

And works of love or enmity fulfil. 

For those the race of Israel oft forsook 

Their living strength, and unfrequented left 

His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 

To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 

Bow'd down in battle, sunk before the spear 

Of despicable foes. With these in troop 



1 1 Kings xi. 7. 2 2 Kings xxiii. 

3 Frequently named together in Scripture. They were the sun, Baal ; the moon, Astaroth ; 
and the stars ; im being the plural termination of the name Baal. 



i6 PARADISE LOST 

Came Astoreth, whom the Phcenicians called 
Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; 
To whose bright image nightly by the moon 
Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs, 
In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built 
By that uxorious king,^ whose heart though large, 
Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 
To idols foul. Thammuz^ came next behind, 
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
In amorous ditties all a summer's day, 
While smooth Adonis from his native rock 
Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
Of Thammuz yearly wounded : the love-tale 
Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, 
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
Ezekiel saw,^ when by the vision led 
His eyes survey'd the dark idolatries 
Of alienated Judah. Next came one 
Who mourn'd in earnest, when the captive ark 
Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopt off 
In his own temple, on the grunsel^ edge, 
^Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers : 
Dagon his name;'' sea monster, upward man 
And downward fish : yet had his temple high 



1 Solomon ; who built a temple to Astoreth, the moon, on the Mount of Olives. 

2 Adonis. See Maundrell's "Travels," p. 34. "We had the fortune to see what may be 
supposed to be the occasion of that opinion which Lucian relates concerning this river (the 
Adonis; called by the Turks, Ibrahim Bassa), viz., that this stream, at certain seasons of the 
year, especially about the feast of Adonis, is of a bloody color; which the Heathens looked 
upon as proceeding from a kind of sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis. Some- 
thing like this, we saw, actually came to pass ; for the water was stained to a surprising 
redness, and, as we observed in travelling had discolored the sea a great \\ay into a reddish 
hue, occasioned, doubtless, by a sort of minium, or red earth, washed into the river by the 
violence of the rain, and not by any stain from Adonis' blood." 

3 Ezek. viii. 12. * Threshold, ^roundse/. ^ 1 Sam. v. 4. 

^fe- -^ 



a -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 17 

Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 

Of Palestine, in Gath, and Ascalon, 

And Accaron, and Gaza's frontier bounds. 

Him follow'd Rimmon/ whose dehghtful seat 

Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 

Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 

He also against the house of God was bold 

A leper once he lost," and gain'd a king, 

Ahaz his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 

God's altar to disparage,^ and displace 

For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 

His odious off'rings, and adore the gods 

Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd 

A crew, who under names of old renown, 

Osiris, Isis, Orus,^ and their train, 

With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 

Fanatic ^gypt and her priests, to seek 

Their wand'ring Gods disguised in brutish forms,'^ 

Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 

Th' infection, when their borrow'd gold composed 

The calf in Oreb f and the rebel king 

Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 

Lik'ning his Maker to the grazed ox,'' 

Jehovah, who in one night, when he pass'd 

From ^gypt marching^ equall'd with one stroke 

Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. 

Belial ^ came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 

Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 

Vice for itself: to him no temple stood 

Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 

In temples and at altars, when the priest 

Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fiU'd 

1 A Syrian god. 2 Naaman. See 2 Kings v. 17.- ^2. Kings xvi. 10. 2 c;;hron. xxviii. 23. 
* Orus was the son of Osiris (the sun) and Isis (the moon.) 

5 The sacred calf, the ram, &c. 6 Exod. xxxii. t i Kings xii. 28. 

" The god of lewdness and luxury. 

2 

^fe ^ 



a -^ 

1 8 PARADISE LOST. 

With lust and violence the house of God? 
In courts and palaces he also reigns, 
And in luxurious cities, where the noise 
Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, 
And injury, and outrage : and when night 
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 
Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
Exposed a matron to avoid worse rape. 

These were the prime in order and in might; 
The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd 
Th' Ionian gods, of Javan's issuc,^ held 
Gods, yet confess'd later than hcav'n and earth. 
Their boasted parents. Titan, heav'n's first-born,^ 
With his enormous brood and birthright seized 
By younger Saturn, he from mightier Jove, 
His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 
So Jove usurping reign'd : these first in Crete 
And Ida known ;^ thence on the snowy top 
Of cold Olympus ruled the middle air. 
Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian clifif* 
Or in Dodona,^ and through all the bounds 
Of Doric land;^ or who with Saturn old 
Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian fields,'^ 
And o'er the Celtic roam'd the utmost isles.^ 



^ Javiin, the fourth son of Japhet, was supposed to have settled Ionia, in the south-west 
part of Asia Minor. The gods of the Greek mythology are here meant. 

2 Titan, supposed to be the son of Heaven and Earth, was the father of the giants. Saturn, 
his younger brother, seized his empire, and was, in his turn, deposed by his son Jupiter. 

3 /upiter was said to have been born on Mount Ida, in the island of Crete (now Candia). 
He and the other Greekgods then passed to Greece, and Jupiter reigned on Mount Olympus, 
in Thessaly. 

* Mount Parnassus, where the city of Delphi, famous for its Oracle, was situated. 
6 A city and wood sacred to Jupiter, famous also for its Oracle. 

* "Doric land," Greece. 7 Italy. 

* France, the abode of the Celts. "Utmost isles," Great Britain, &c., &c.: Ultima ThuU, 



a ^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 19 

All these and more came flocking; but with looks 
Down-cast and damp, yet such wherein appear'd 
Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their chief 
Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 
In loss itself; which on his countenance cast 
Like doubtful hue : but he, his wonted pride 
Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
Semblance of worth not substance, gently raised 
Their fainted courage, and dispell'd their fears. 
Then straight commands, tliat at the warlike sound 
Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprearVl 
His mighty standard : that proud honor claim'd 
Azazel ^ as his right, a cherub tall ; ( 

Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd I 

Th' imperial ensign, which, full high advanced, ! 

Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind, f 

With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed, 
Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds: 
At which the universal host up sent 
A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond 
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
All in a moment through the gloom were seen 
Ten thousand banners rise into the air 
With orient colors waving: with them rose 
A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 
Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array 
Of depth immeasurable : anon they move 
In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood" 
Of flutes and soft recorders f such as raised 
To highth of noblest temper heroes old 



- This name is used for some demon or devil by several ancient authors, Jewish and 
Christian. — Newton. 

2 A solemn style of music, exciting to cool and deliberate courage. — Newton. The 
ancients had three different styles of mus ic : the Lydian, soft and languishing ; the Phrygian, 
gay and animated; the Dorian, solemn and majestic. 3 A species of flute or flageolet. 



c-x 



4" 



^ 



^ 



20 PARADISE LOST. 

Arming to battle; and instead of rage 
Deliberate valor breath'd, firm, and unmoved 
With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; 
Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage 
With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, 
From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
Breathing united force, with fixed thought, 
Moved on in silence to soft pipes, that charm'd 
Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil ; and now 
Advanced in view they stand, a horrid front 
Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
Of warriors old with ordered spear and shield, 
Awaiting what command their mighty chief 
Had to impose : he through the armed files 
Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
The whole batallion views ; their order due, 
Their visages and stature as of Gods ; 
Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
Distends with pride, and hard'ning in his strength 
Glories ; for never, since created man, 
Met such embodied force, as named with these 
Could merit more than that small infantry ' 
Warr'd on by cranes ; though all the giant brood 
Of Phlegra^ with th' heroic. race were join'd 
That fought at Thebes^ and Ilium,* on each side 
Mix'd with auxiliar Gods ;. and what resounds 
In fable or romance of Uther's son,^ 
Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; 



1 The Pigmies. See "Basilides Athenasi." IX. 43. 

2 Phlegra, a city of Macedonia, where the Titans, or giants, dwelt who made war against 
the gods. 

3 Thebes, a city of Boeotia, famous for the war between the sons of CEdipus, Eteocles and 
Polynices. The subject of Statiuss "ThebaVd." 

* Troy, the siege of which is the subject of Homer's "Iliad." The gods took different 
sides in this war. 
" Arthur. Armoric knights were knights of Armorica, or Brittany, 



^ 



■& 



c: 



3 ^ 

PARADISE LOST. o, ^ 



And all who since, baptized or infidel 
Jousted in Aspra'mont or Montalban/ 
Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 
When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 
By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond 
Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 
Their dread commander : he, above the rest 
In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 
Stood like a tow'r ; his form had yet not lost 
All her original brightness, nor appear'd 
Less than.Arch angel ruin'd, and th excess 
Of glory obscured: as when the sun new-risen 
Looks through the horizontal misty air^ 
Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, 
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
On half the nations, and with fear of change 
Perplexes monarchs :^ darken'd so, yet shone 
Above them all th' Arch angel : but his face 
Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care 
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows 
Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 
Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast 
Signs of remorse and passion to behold 
The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, 
Far other once beheld in bliss, condemn'd 
For ever now to have their lot in pain, 
Millions of spirits for his fault amerced^ 
Of heav'n, and from eternal splendors flung 
For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood, 
Their glory wither'd : as when heaven's fire 



1 Romantic names of places mentioned in Ariosto'spoem, "Orlando Furioso," and in the 
old romances. 
'^ Alluding to the superstition that an eclipse or comet foretold the disturbance of nations. 
3 Deprived of by forfeiture. See Quarles's "Divine Poems," p. i8. 



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22 



PARADISE LOST. 



Hath scath'd the forest oaks or mountain pines, 
With singed top their stately growth, though bare. 
Stands on tlie blasted heath. He now prepared 
To speak; whereat their doubled ranks tlicy bend 
From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 
With all his peers : attention held tliem mute. 
Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scc-i'n 
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth ; at last 
Words interwove with sighs found out their way. 

O myriads of immortal spirits, O Powers 
Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife 
Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire, 
As this place testifies, and this dire change 
Hateful to utter : but what power of mind. 
Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd. 
How such united force of Gods, how such 
As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 
For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
Hath emptied heav'n,^ shall fail to reascend 
Self-raised, and repossess their native seat ? 
For me, be witness all the host of heav'n, 
If counsels different or danger shunn'd 
By me have lost our hopes : but he, who reigns 
Monarch in heav'n, .till then as one secure 
Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute. 
Consent, or custom, and his regal state 
Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd, 
Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, 
So as not cither to provoke, or dread 
New war, provoked ; our better part remains 
To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 

J Rev. xii. 4. 



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a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 23 

Whac lorce effected not ; that he no less 
At length from us may find, who overcomes 
By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
Space may produce new worlds, whereof so rife 
There went a fame in heav'n, that he ere long 
Intended to create, and therein plant 
A generation, whom his choice regard 
Should favor equal to the sons of hea\fen: 
Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 
Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere ; . 
For this infernal pit shall never hold 
Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' Abyss 
Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
Full counsel must mature : peace is despair'd; 
For who can think submission? war then, war 
Open or understood, must be resolved. 

He spake : and to confirm his words outflew 
Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze 
Far round illumined hell : highly they raged 
Against the highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, 
Hurling defiance toward the vault of heav'n. 

There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 
Belch'd fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign 
That in his womb was hid metallic ore. 
The work of sulphur. Thither, wing'd with speed, 
A numerous brigade hasten'd; as when bands 
Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd, 
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field. 
Or cast a rampart. Mammon^ led them on, 
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
From heav'n ; for ev'n in heav'n his looks and thoughts 



1 The word Mammon isSyriac for riches (Matt. vi. 24) ; personified also by Spenser. 



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24 



PARADISE LOST. 

Were always downward bent, admiring more 

The riches of heav'n's pavement, trodden gold, 

Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd 

In vision beatific. By him first 

Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 

Ransack'd the centre, and with impious hands 

Rifled the bowels of their mother earth 

For treasures bfetter hid. Soon had his crew 

Open'd into the hill a spacious wound. 

And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 

That riches grow in hell ; that soil may best 

Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 

Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell 

Of Babel and the works of Memphian kings, 

Learn how their greatest monuments of fame 

And strength and art are easily outdone 

By spirits reprobate, and in an hour 

What in an age they with incessant toil 

And hands innumerable scarce perform. 

Nigh on the plain in many cells prepared, 

That underneath had veins of liquid fire 

Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 

With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, 

Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross. 

A third as soon had formed within the ground 

A various mould, and from the boiling cells 

By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook : 

As in an organ from one blast of wind 

To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. 

Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 

Rose, like an exhalation, with the sound 

Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, 

Built like a temple, where pilasters round 

Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 

With golden architrave ; nor did there want 

Cornice or fneze with bossy sculptures graven ; 



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a — ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 25 

The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 

Nor great Alcairo' such magnificence 

Equall'd in all their glories, to inshrine 

Belus or Serapis their Gods, or seat 

Their kings, when ^gypt with Assyria strove 

In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile 

Stood fixt her stately highth, and straight the doors 

Op'ning their brazen folds, discover, wide 

Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 

And level pavement : from the arched roof. 

Pendant by subtle magic, many a row 

Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 

With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light 

As from a sky. The hasty multitude 

Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise, 

And some the architect : his hand was known 

In heav'n by many a towered structure high. 

Where sceptered angels held their residence, 

And sat as princes ; whom the supreme King 

Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 

Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. 

Nor was his name unheard or unadored 

In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 

Men call'd him Mulciber;^ and how he fell 

From heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 

Sheer o'er the crystal battlements; from morn 

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 

A summer's day; and with the setting sun 

Dropt from the Zenith like a falling star, 

On Lemnos, th' ^Egean isle ; thus they relate. 

Erring; for he with this rebellious rout 

Fell long before ; nor aught avail'd him now 

To have built in heav'n high towers; nor did he 'scape 

By all his engines, but was headlong sent 

' Cairo, in Egypt. 2 Vulcin. See Homer, "Iliad," 1-590. 

"^ ■ ^ 



^ ^ 

26 PARADISE LOST. 

With his industrious crew to build in hell. 

Meanwhile the winged heralds by command 
or sov'reign power, with awful ceremony 
And trumpets sound, throughout the host proclaim 
A solemn council forthwith to be held 
At Pandaimonium, the high capital 
Of Satan and his peers : their summons call'd 
From every band and squared regiment 
By place or choice the worthiest ; they anon 
With hundreds and with thousands trooping came 
Attended : all access was throng'd, the gates 
And porches wide, but chief the spacious haU, 
■ Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold 
Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair 
Defied the best of Panim chivalry 
To mortal combat or career with lance, 
Thick swarm'd both on the ground and in the air, 
Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 
In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers 
Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
The suburb of their straw-built citadel, 
New rubb'd with balm, expatiate, and confer 
Their state affairs : So thick the aery crowd 
Swarm'd and were straiten'd ; till, the signal giv'n. 
Behold a wonder ! they, but now who seem'd 
In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, 
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
Throng numberless, like that Pygmean race 
Beyond the Indian mount, or Fairy Elves, 
Whose midnight revels, by a forest side. 
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees. 
Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon 
Sits arbitress,^ and nearer to the earth 



1 Spectatress HOR. Ep. V. 49. 

0^ ^ 



PARADISE LOST. 27 

Wheels her pale course; they, on their mirth and dance 

Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; 

At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 

Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms 

Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large 

Though without number still, amidst the hall 

Of that infernal court. But far within, 

And in their own dimensions like themselves, 

The great Seraphic lords and Cherubim 

In close recess and secret conclave sat, 

A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, 

Frequent and full. After short silence then 

And summons read, the great consult began. 



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28 



PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK 11. 

The Argument. 

The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the 
recovery of heaven : some advise it, others dissuade. A third proposal is preferred, men- 
tioned before by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in heaven concern- 
ing another world, and another kind of creature, equal, or not much inferior to themselves, 
about this time to be created : their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search : Satan 
their chief undertakes alone the voyage, is honored and applauded. The council thus 
ended, the rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their inclinations 
lead them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to hell gates, 
finjls them shut, and who sat there to guard them, by whom at length they are opened, and 
discover to him the great gulf between hell and heaven : with what difficulty he passes 
through, directed by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new world which 
he sought. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 

Outshone the wealth of Ormus* and of Ind, 

Or where the gorgeous east with richest hand 

Show'rs on her kings Barbaric pearl and gold,^ 

Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 

To that bad eminence ; and, from despair 

Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 

Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 

Vain war with heav'n, and by success untaught 

His proud imaginations thus display'd. 

Powers and dominions. Deities of heav'n,^ 
For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
Immortal vigor, though oppress'd and fall'n, 
I give not heav'n for lost: from this descent 
Celestial virtues rising will appear 
More glorious and more dread, than from no fall, 



J In the Persian Gulf. 

2 It was the Eastern custom for ihe princes of the blood royal and the emirs to sprinkle 
gold dust and seed pearl on the head of the monarch at his coronation. See "Vie de 
Tamerlane" (translated by M. Petit de la Croix), B. II. c. i. 3 Colos. i. i6. 



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PARADISE LOST. 29 

And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
Me though just right and the fix'd laws of heav'n 
Did first create your leader, next free choice, 
With what besides, in council or in fight, 
Hath been achieved of merit ; yet this loss, 
Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more 
Establish'd in a safe unenvied throne, 
Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
In heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw 
Envy from each inferior ; but who here 
Will envy whom the highest place exposes 
Foremost to stand against the Thund'rer's aim 
Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
Of endless pain ? Where there is then no good 
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
From faction ; for none sure will claim in hell 
Precedence, none, whose portion is so small 
Of present pain„that with ambitious mind 
Will covet more. With this advantage then 
To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, 
More than can be in heav'n, we now return 
To claim our just inheritance of old. 
Surer to prosper than prosperity 
Could have assured us ; and by what best way, 
Whether of open war or covert guile, 
We now debate ; who can advise, may Speak. 

He ceased ; and next him Moloch, scepter'd king. 
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit 
That fought in heav'n, now fiercer by despair : 
His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd 
Equal in strength, and rather than be less 
Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost 
Went all his fear : of God, or hell, or worse. 
He reck'd not ; and these words thereafter spake : 

My sentence is for open war : of wiles. 
More unexpert, I boast not : them let those 

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<b 



30 PARADISE LOST. 

Contrive who need, or when they need, not now : 

For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 

Millions that stand in arms and longing wait 

The signal to ascend, sit ling'ring here 

Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 

Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 

The prison of his tyranny who reigns 

By our delay ? no, let us rather choose, 

Arm'd with hell flames and fury, all at once 

O'er heav'n's high towers to force resistless way, 

Turning our tortures into horrid arms 

Against the torturer ; when to meet the noise 

Of his almighty engine he shall hear 

Infernal thunder, and for lightning see 

Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 

Among his angels ; and his throne itself 

Mixt with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, 

His own invented torments. But perhaps 

The way seems difficult and steep to scale 

With upright wing against a higher foe. 

Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 

Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, 

That in our proper motion we ascend 

Up to our native seat : descent and fall 

To us is adverse. Who but felt of late. 

When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear 

Insulting, and pursued us through the deep, 

With what compulsion and laborious flight 

We sunk thus low ? th' ascent is easy then ; 

Th' event is fear'd ; should we again provoke 

Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 

To our destruction : if there be in hell 

Fear to be worse destroy'd : what can be worse 

Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd 

In this abhorred deep to utter woe ; 

Where pain of unextinguishable fire 



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PARADISE LOST. 31 

Must exercise us without hope of end, 
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 
Inexorably, and th^ torturing hour 
Calls us to penance ? more destroy'd than thus 
We should be quite abolish'd and expire. 
What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 
His utmost ire? which, to the highth enraged, 
Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
To nothing this essential ; happier far, 
Than miserable to have eternal being. 
Or if our substance be indeed divine, 
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 
On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel 
Our power sufficient to disturb his heav'n, 
And with perpetual inroads to alarm. 
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne } 
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge. 

He ended frowning, and his look denounced 
Desperate revenge and battle dangerous 
To less than Gods. On th' other side up rose 
Belial, in act more graceful and humane; 
A fairer person lost not heav'n ; he seem'd 
For dignity composed and high exploit : 
But all was false and holIoAv^ ; though his tongue 
Dropp'd Manna, and could make the worse apppear 
The better reason, to perplex and dash 
Maturest counsels ; for his thoughts were low ; 
To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
Timorous and slothful : yet he pleased the ear, 
And with persuasive accent thus began. 

I should be much for open war, O Peers, 
As not behind in hate, if what was urged, 
Main reason to persuade immediate war. 
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 

1 Upheld by fate. — Newton. 



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PARADISE LOST. 

Ominous conjecture on the whole success ; 

When he, who most excels in fact of arms, 

In what he counsels and in what excels 

Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair 

And utter dissolution, as the scope 

Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 

First, what revenge ? the towers of heav'n are filled 

With armed watch, that render all access 

Impregnable ; oft on the bordering deep 

Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing 

Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 

Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 

By force, and at our heels all hell should rise. 

With blackest insurrection to confound 

Heav'n's purest light, yet our great enemy 

All incorruptible would on his throne 

Sit unpolluted; and th' ethereal mould 

Incapable of stain would soon expel 

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 

Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 

Is flat despair : we must exasperate 

Th' almighty Victor to spend all his rage, 

And that must end us, that must be our cure, 

To be no more: sad cure ; for who would lose, 

Though full of pain, this intellectual being. 

Those thoughts that wander through eternity. 

To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 

In the wide womb of uncreated night. 

Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows. 

Let this be good, whether our angry foe 

Can give it, or will ever ? how he can, 

Is doubtful ; that he never will, is sure. 

Will he, so wise, lot loose at once his ire, 

Belike through impotence or unaware, 

To give his enemies their wish, and end 

Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 



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PARADISE LOST. 33 

To punish endless ? Wherefore cease we then ? 

Say they who counsel war;— We are decreed. 

Reserved, and destined to eternal woe ; 

Whatever doing, what can we suffer more. 

What can we suffer worse? — Is this then worst, 

Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? 

What, when we fled amain, pursued and struck 

With heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought 

The deep to shelter us ? this hell then seem'd 

A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay 

Chain'd on the burning lake? that sure was worse. 

What if the breath that kindled those grim fires ' 

Awaked should blow them into sevenfold rage, 

And plunge us in the flames ? or from above 

Should intermitted vengeance arm again 

His red right hand to plague us ? what, if all 

Her stores were open'd and this firmament 

Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 

Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall 

One day upon our heads; while we, perhaps 

Designing or exhorting glorious war. 

Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurl'd 

Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey 

Of racking whirlwinds; or for ever sunk 

Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains. 

There to converse with everlasting groans, 

Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 

Ages of hopeless end ? this would be worse. 

War therefore open or conceal'd, alike 

My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 

With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 

Views all things at one view ? He from heav'n's highth 

All these our motions vain sees and derides ; 

Not more almighty to resist our might. 




d> 



34 



PARADISE LOST. 

Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 

Shall we then live thus vile, th' race of heav'n 

Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here 

Chains and these torments ? better these than worse 

By my advice; since fate inevitable 

Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 

The victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 

Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust 

That so ordains : this was -at first resolved. 

If we were wise, against so great a foe 

Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. 

I laugh, when those, who at the spear are bold 

And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear 

What yet they know must follow, to endure 

Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain. 

The sentence of their conqueror : this is now 

Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, 

Our supreme foe in time may much remit 

His anger, and perhaps thus far removed 

Not mind us not offending, satisfied 

With what is punish'd : whence these raging fires 

Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 

Our purer essence then will overcome 

Their noxious vapor, or enured not feel ; 

Or changed at length, and to the place conform'd 

In temper and in nature, will receive 

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light: 

Besides w^hat hope the never ending flight 

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 

Worth waiting, since our present lot appears 

For happy though but ill, for ill not worst. 

If we procure not to ourselves more woe. 

Thus Belial with words cloth'd in reason's garb 
Counsell'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth. 
Not peace : and after him thus Mammon spake. 



I 



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^ 



PARADISE LOST. 35 

Either to disenthrone the Kinj of heav'n 
We war, if war be best, or to regain 
Our own right lost : Him to unthrone we then 
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield 
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife : 
The former vain to hope argues as vain 
The latter : for what place can be for us 
Within heav'n's bound, unless heav'n's Lord supreme 
We overpower ? suppose He should relent 
And publish grace to all, on promise made 
Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
Stand in his presence humble, and receive 
Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne 
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing 
Forced hallelujahs; while he lordly sits 
Our envied Sov'reign, and his altar breathes 
Ambrosial odors and ambrosial flowers, 
Our servile offerings? This must be our task 
In heav'n, this our delight ; how wearisome 
Eternity so spent in worship paid 
To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
By force impossible, by leave obtain'd 
Unacceptable, though in heav'n, our state 
Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek 
Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 
Live to our selves, though in this vast recess, 
Free, and to none accountable, preferring 
Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 
We can create ; and in what place so e'er 
Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain 
Through labor and endurance. This deep world 
Of darkness do we dread ? how oft amidst 
Thick clouds and dark doth heav'n's all-ruline Sire 






a- 



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,6 PARADISE LOST. 

Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, 

And with the majesty of darkness round 

Covers his throne ;^ from whence deep thunders roar 

Must'ring their rage, and heav'n resembles hell ? 

As he our darkness, cannot we His light 

Imitate when we please? this desert soil 

Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold ; 

Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 

Magnificence ; and what can heav'n shew more ? 

Our torments also may in length of time 

Become our elements, these piercing fires 

As soft as now severe, our temper changed 

Into their temper; which must needs remove 

The sensible of pain. All things invite 

To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 

Of order, how in safety best we may 

Compose our present evils, with regard 

Of what we are and were, dismissing quite 

All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise. 

He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fill'd 
Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 
The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
Sea-faring men o'er watch'd, whose bark by chance 
Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay 
After the tempest : such applause was heard 
As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
Advising peace : for such another field 
They dreaded worse than hell : so much the fear 
Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 
To found this nether empire, which might rise, 
By policy and long process of time, 
In emulation opposite to heav'n. 



1 Psalm xviii. 11-13; xcvii. 2. 



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PARADISE LOST. t^j \ 

Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, 

Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 

Aspect he rose, and in his rising secm'd 

A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven 

Deliberation sat and public care ; 

And princely counsel in his f ice yet shone, 

Majestic though in ruin : sage he stood. 

With Atlantean^ sho.ulders fit to bear 

The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look 

Drew audience and attention still as night 

Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake. 

Thrones and imperial Powers, offspring of heav'n, 
Ethereal Virtues; or these titles now 
Must we renounce, and changing style be call'd 
Princes of hell ? for so the popular vote 
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
A growing empire. Doubtless ; while we dream, 
And know not that the King of heav'n hath doom'd 
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat 
Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt 
From heav'n's high jurisdiction, in new league 
Banded against his throne, but to remain 
In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
Under the inevitable curb, reserv'd 
His captive multitude : for he, be sure. 
In highth or depth, still first and last will reign 
Sole King, and of his kingdom lose no part 
By our revolt, but over hell extend 
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule,^ 
Us here, as with his golden those in heav'n. 
What sit we then projecting peace and war ? 
War hath determined us, and foil'd with loss 
Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
Vouchsafed or sought ; for what peace will be giv'n 

1 Atlas was fabled to have held the heavens on his shoulders. * Psalm ii. g. 

0^ : ^ 



^ 



38 PARADISE LOST. 

To us enslaved, but custody severe, 

And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 

Inflicted? and what peace can we return. 

But to our power hostility and hate, 

Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow. 

Yet ever plotting how the conqueror least 

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 

In doing what we most in suffering feel? 

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 

With dangerous expedition to invade 

Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault, or siege. 

Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 

Some easier enterprize ? There is a place, 

(If ancient and prophetic fame in heav'n 

Err not,) another world, the happy seat 

Of some new race call'd Man, about this time 

To be created like to us, though less 

In power and excellence, but favor'd more 

Of Him who rules above ; so was His will 

Pronounced among the Gods, and by an oath. 

That shook heav'n's whole circumference, confirm'd. 

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 

What creatures there inhabit, of what mould 

Or substance, how endued, and what their power, 

And where their Aveakness, how attempted best, 

By force or subtilty. Though heav'n be shut, 

And heav'n's high Arbitrator sit secure 

In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, 

The utmost border of his kingdom, left 

To their defence who hold it : here perhaps 

Some advantageous act may be achieved 

By sudden onset, either with hell fire 

To waste his whole creation, or possess 

All as our own, and drive as we were driven 

The puny habitants ; or if not drive, 

Seduce them to our party, that their God 



^ 



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a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 39 

May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
AboHsh his own works. This would surpass 
Common revenge, and interrupt his joy- 
In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
In his disturbance ; when his darhng sons, 
Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
Their frail original, and faded bliss. 
Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 
Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
Hatching vain empires. — Thus Beelzebub 
Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised 
By :5atan, and in part proposed ; for whence, 
But from the author of all ill, could spring 
So deep a malice, to confound the race 
Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell 
To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
The great Creator ? but their spite still serves 
His glory to augment The bold design 
Pleased highly those infernal states, and joy 
Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 
They vote : whereat his speech he thus renews. 

Well have ye judged, well ended long debate,' 
Synod of Gods, and, like to what ye are. 
Great things resolved ; which from the lowest deep 
Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 
Of those bright confines, whence with neighboring arms 
And opportune excursion we may chance 
Re-enter heav'n : or else in some mild zone 
Dwell, not unvisited of heav'n's fair light, 
Secure, and at the brigt'ning orient beam 
Purge off this gloom ; the soft delicious air 
To heal the scar of these corrosive fires 
Shall breathe her balm. But first whom shall we send 
In search of this new world ? whom shall we find 
Sufficient ? who shall tempt with wand'ring feet 

^ ^ 



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40 



PARADISE LOST. 

The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss, 
And through the palpable obscure find out 
His uncouth way, or spread his airy flight, 
Upborne with indefatigable wings. 
Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive ^ 
The happy isle?^ what strength, what art can then 
Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 
Through the strict sentries and stations thick 
Of angels watching round ? here he had need 
All circumspection, and we now no less 
Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send 
The weight of all, and our last hope, relies. 

This said, he sat; and expectation held 
His look suspense, awaiting who appear'd 
To second, or oppose, or undertake 
The perilous attempt : but all sat mute. 
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 
In others' count'nance read his own dismay 
Astonish'd ; none among the choice and prime 
Of those heav'n-warring champions could be found 
So hardy, as to proffer or accept 
Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride. 
Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake. 

O Progeny of heav'n, empyreal Thrones, 
With reason hath deep silence and demur 
Seized us, though undismay'd: long is the way 
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light ; 
Our prison strong; this huge convex of fire, 
Outrageous to devour, immures us round 
Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant 
Barr'd over us prohibit all egress. 

■> An old English idiom. — See Shakespeare's Henry VI. Part iii. Act v. 
2 The earth surrounded by air.~ 



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PARADISE LOST. 41 

These pass'd, if any pass, the void profound 

Of unessential ' night receives him next 

Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 

Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gulf. 

If thence he 'scape into whatever world, 

Or unknown region, what remains him less 

Than unknown dangers and as hard escape ? 

But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, 

And this imperial sov'reignty, adorn'd 

With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught proposed 

And judged of public moment, in the shape 

Of difficulty or danger, could deter 

Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 

These royalties, and not refuse to reign. 

Refusing to accept as great a share 

Of hazard as of honor, due alike , 

To him who reigns, and so much to him due 

Of hazard more, as he above the rest 

High honor'd sits? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 

Terror of heav'n though fall'n ! intend at home. 

While here shall be our home, what best may ease 

The present misery, and render hell 

More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 

To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 

Of this ill mansion. Intermit no watch 

Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad 

Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek 

Deliverance for us all : this enterprize 

None shall partake with me. Thus saying 

Rose the monarch and prevented all reply; 

Prudent, lest from his resolution raised 

Others among the chief might offer now. 

Certain to be refused, what erst they fear'd ; 

And so refused might in opinion stand 

1 Void of being. 



a— 



<b 



42 PARADISE LOST. 

His rivals, winning cheap the high repute, 

Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 

Dreaded not more the adventure, than his voice 

Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose : 

Their rising all at once was as the sound 

Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 

With awful reverence prone ; and as a God 

Extol him equal to the highest in heav'n : 

Nor failed they to express how much they praised, 

That for the general safety he despised 

His own ; for neither do the spirits damn'd 

Lose all their virtue, lest bad men should boast 

Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 

Or close ambition varnish'd o'er with zeal. 

Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 

Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: 

As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds 

Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 

Heav'n's cheerful face, the low'ring element 

Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape snow, or shower; 

If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet 

Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive, 

The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 

Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 

O shame to men ! devil with devil damn'd 

Firm concord holds, men only disagree 

Of creatures rational, though under hope 

Of heav'nly grace ; and God proclaiming peace, 

Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 

Among themselves, and levy cruel wars. 

Wasting the earth, each other to destroy •} 

As if, which might induce us to accord, 

Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 

That day and night for his destruction wait. 

' An allusion to the age of civil strife and controversies in which Milton's lot was cast. 



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a ^ : ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 43 

The Stygian council thus dissolved ; and forth 
In order came the grand infernal peers ; 
Midst came their mighty paramount, and seem'd 
Alone the antagonist of heav'n, nor less 
Than hell's dread emperor, with pomp supreme 
And God like imitated state : him round 
A globe of fiery Seraphim inclosed 
With bright emblazonry and horrent^ arms 
Then of their session ended they bid cry 
Witli trumpets regal sound the great result : 
Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
Put to their mouths the sounding alchymy,^ 
By heralds' voice explain'd : the hollow abyss 
Heard far and wide, and all the host of hell 
With deaf 'ning shout returned them loud acclaim. 

Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised 
By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
Disband, and wand'ring each his several way 
. Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
Leads him perplex'd, where he may likeliest find 
Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 
The irksome hours, till his great chief return. 
Part, on the plain or in the air sublime, 
Upon the wmg or in swift race contend, 
As at the Olympian games, or Pythian fields : 
Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
As when to warn proud cities war appears 
Waged in the troubled sky,^ and armies rush 
To battle in the clouds, before each van ' 
Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears 
Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 

1 Bristling. « Gold or silver trumpets. Herald's alchemy would be "or and argent." 

^ These appearances in the clouds have been frequently recorded. On the Mont d'Or, the 

night before the battle in which Philip von Arteveldt was killed, an armed host was seen 

contending in the sky. 

^ ~& 



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44 



PARADISE LOST. 

From either end of heav'n the welkin burns. 

Others with vast Typhcean rage more fell 

Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 

In whirlwind ■} hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 

As when Alcides^ from CEchalia crown'd 

With conquest feltth' envenom'd robe, and tore 

Through pain up by the roots Thessalian pines, 

And Lichas from the top of Qita threw 

Into th' Euboic sea. Others more mild. 

Retreated in a silent valley, sing 

With notes angelical to many a harp 

Their own heroic deeds and hapless fall 

By doom of battle ; and complain that fate 

Free virtue should enthral to force or chance. 

Their song was partial ; but the harmony, 

What could it less when spirits immortal sing? 

Suspended hell, and took with ravishment 

The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet. 

For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense. 

Others apart sat on a hill retired, 

In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high 

Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 

Fix'd fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute ; 

And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. 

Of good and evil much they argued then, 

Of happiness and final misery. 

Passion and apathy, and glory and shame. 

Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 

Yet with a pleasing sorcery could charm 

Pain for a while or anguish, and excite 



1 Alluding to the war of the Titans. 

2 Hercules, named Alcides after his grandfather, Alceus. On his return from the conquest 
of CEchalia, a city of Boeotia, he received from his wife the envenomed robe of the Centaur. 
It clung to him and could only be removed with the flesh. In his agony the demigod tore 
up pines by the roots, and threw Lichas, the messenger who had brought him the robe, from 
the top of Mount CEta into the Eubean Sea. 



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PARADISE LOST. 45 

Fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured breast 

With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 

Another part in squadrons and gross bands, 

On bold adventure to discover v/ide 

That dismal world, if any clime perhaps, 

Might yield them easier habitation, bend 

Four ways their flying march, along the banks 

Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 

Into the burning lake their baleful streams ; 

Abhorred Styx,^ the flood of deadly hate ; 

Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep ; 

Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 

Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegethon, 

Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 

Far off from these* a slow and silent stream, 

Lethe the river of oblivion, rolls 

Her wat'ry labyrinth, whereof who drinks. 

Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 

Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 

Beyond this flood a frozen continent 

Lies, dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 

Of whirlwind and dire hail ; which on firm land 

Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 

Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice ; 

A gulf profound as that Serbonian^ bog 

Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old, 

Where armies whole have sunk : the parching air 

Burns frore,^ and cold performs th' effect of fire. 

Thither by harpy-footed Furies haled 

At certain revolutions all the damn'd 

Are brought; and feel by turns the bitter change 

Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce, 

1 The names and qualities of these rivers are all taken from the Greek mythology, 

2 Serbonis was a huge bog in Egypt, sometimes so covered with sand as to be indistinguish- 
able from the land. It was 200 furlongs long, and 1,000 round. Damietta was a city on 
one of the eastern mouths of the Nile. s Frostily. See Ecclus. xlii. 20, 21. 

^ 



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46 PARADISE LOST. 

From beds of raging fire to starve in ice 

Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 

Immovable, infix'd, and frozen round, 

Periods of time ; thence hurried back to fire. 

They ferry over this Lethean sound 

Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, 

And wish and struggle, as they pass to reach 

The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 

In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe. 

All in one moment, and so near the brink : 

But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt 

Medusa,^ with Gorgonian terror guards 

The ford, and of itself the water flies 

All taste of living wight, as once it fled 

The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 

In confused march forlorn, th' advent'rous bands, 

With shudd'ring horror pale, and eyes aghast, 

Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found 

No rest : through many a dark and dreary vale 

They pass'd, and many a region dolorous, 

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death, 

A universe of death, which God by curse 

Created evil, for evil only good, 

Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds. 

Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 

Abominable, inutterable, and worse 

Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived, 

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras^ dire. 

Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, 
Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of hell 



1 Medusa was a Gorgon of horrid beauty, who had the power ot turning those who gazed 
- her into stone. Forgetfulness could never be permitted to the lost spirits. 

2 Monsters of the heathen mythology. 






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4 




Before the gates there sat 
On either side a formidable shape. 



Page 47. 



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PARADISE LOST. 47 

Explores his solitary flight ; sometimes 

He scours the right-hand coast, sometimes the left ; 

Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 

Up to the fiery concave towering high. 

As when far off at sea a fleet descried 

Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 

Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 

Of Ternate and Tidore/ whence merchants bring 

Their spicy drugs : they on the trading flood 

Through the wide /Ethiopian to the Cape 

Ply, stemming nightly toward the pole : so seem'd 

Far off the flying fiend. At last appear 

Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof; 

And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were brass, 

Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 

Impenetrable, impaled with oircling fire, 

Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 

On either side a formidable shape f 

The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, 

But ended foul in many a scaly fold, 

Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd 

With mortal sting : about her middle round 

A cry of hell hounds never ceasing bark'd 

With wide Cerberean^ mouths full loud, and rung 

A hideous peel : yet, when they list, would creep. 

If aught disturb'd their noise, into her womb, 

And kennel there ; yet there still bark'd and howl'd 

Within unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these 

Vex'd Scylla bathing in the sea that parts 

Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore :* 

* Two of the Molucca islands. 

2 Here begins the famous allegory of Milton, which is a sort of paraphrase of St. James 
i. 15 : " Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, 
bringeth forth death." 

3 Like those of Cerberus, the dog witn three heads, supposed to keep the gate of hell. 

* Trinacria was the ancient name for Sicily. Scylla Charybdis were the whirlpools be- 
tween it and Italy. 



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<b 



48 PARADISE LOST. 

Nor uglier follow the Night-hag, when call'd 
In secret riding through the air she comes, 
Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
With Lapland witches, while the laboring moon 
Eclipses at their charms. The other shape, 
If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none 
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, 
Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, 
For each seem'd either ; black it stood as night. 
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell 
And shook a dreadful dart ; what seem'd his head 
The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
The monster moving onward came as fast, 
With horrid strides ; hell trembled as he strode. 
The undaunted fiend what this might be admired ; 
Admired, not fear'd ; God and his Son except, 
Created thing naught valued he, nor shunn'd ; 
And with disdainful look thus first began. 

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, 
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
To yonder gates ? through them I mean to pass, 
That be assured without leave ask'd of thee. 
Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 
Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heav'n. 

To whom the goblin full of wrath replied, 
Art thou that traitor angel, art thou he. 
Who first broke peace in heav'n and faith, till then 
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 
Drew after him the third nart of heav'n's sons 
Conjured^ against the Highest ; for which both thou 
And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 
To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 

1 Conspired. 



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PARADISE LOST. 49 

And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of hsav'n, 
Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, 
Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, 
Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment, 
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before. 

So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
So speaking and so threat'ning, grew tenfold 
More dreadful and deform : on the other side 
Incensed with indignation Satan stood 
Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd. 
That fires the length of Ophiucus ' huge 
In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 
Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
Levell'd his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
No second stroke intend, and such a frown 
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 
With heav'n's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
Over the Caspian f then stand front to front 
Hov'ring a space, till winds the signal blow 
To join their dark encounter in mid air: 
So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell 
Grew darker at their frown, so match'd they stood ; 
For never but once more^ was either like 
To meet so great a foe : and now great deeds 
Had been achieved, whereof all hell had rung, 
Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
Fast by hell gate, and kept the fatal key, 
Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. 

1 Serpentarius, a northern constellation. Its length would be about forty degrees. 
Comets were supposed to threaten " pestilence and war." 

2 The Caspian is a remarkably tempestuous sea. 

3 Jesus Christ is here intimated, who was to destroy death, and him that has the power 
of death (Heb. ii. 14). 

± 



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50 PARADISE LOST. 

O father, what intends thy hand, she cried, 
Against thy only son ? What fury, O son, 
Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
Against thy father's head ? and know'st for whom ? 
For Him who sits above, and laughs the while 
At thee ordained His drudge, to execute 
Whate'er His wrath, which He calls justice, bids ; 
His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both. 

She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 
Forbore ; then these to her Satan return'd : 

So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 
Thou interposest, that my sudden hand 
Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
What it intends; till first I know of thee. 
What thing thou art, thus double form'd, anJ why, 
In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st 
Ivle father, and that phantasm call'st my son : 
I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
Sight more detestable than him and thee. 
To whom thus the portress of hell gate replied. 

Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
Now in thine eye so foul, once deem'd so fair 
In heav'n ? when at th' assembly, and in sight 
Of all the seraphim with thee combined 
In bold conspiracy against heav'n's King, 
All on a sudden miserable pain 
Surprized thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide, 
Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, 
Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd, 
Out of thy head I sprung ■} amazement seized 
All the host of heav'n ; back they recoil'd afraid 



1 The allegory here follows ihe Greek fable of the birth of Minerva — IVisdotn —said to 
have sprang from the head of Jupiter ; as Sin is here figured to have sprung from the heart 
of Satan. 



f ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 5 i 

At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 

Portentous held me : but familiar grown, 

I pleased, and with attractive graces won 

The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft 

Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing 

Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st 

With me in secret, that my womb conceived 

A growing burthen. Meanwhile war arose, 

And fields were fought in heaven; wherein remain'd, 

(For what could else ?) to our almighty foe 

Clear victory, to our part loss and rout 

Through all the empyrean : down they fell 

Driv'n headlong from the pitch of heav'n, down 

Into this deep, and in the general fall 

I also ; at which time this powerful key 

Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep 

These gates for ever shut, which none can pass 

Without my op'ning. Pensive here I sat 

Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb. 

Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 

Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. 

At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, 

Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, 

Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain 

Distorted all my nether shape thus grew 

Transform'd : but he my inbred enemy 

Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart 

Made to destroy } I fled, and cried out Death ; 

Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd 

From all her caves, and back resounded Death. 

I fled, but he pursued, though more, it seems, 

Inflamed with lust than rage, and swifter far 

Me overtook his mother all dismay'd, 

And, in embraces forcible and foul. 



1 St. James i. 15. 



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52 PARADISE LOST. 

Ingend'ring with me, of that rape begot 
These yelling monsters that with ceaseless cry 
Surround me, as thou saw'st, hourly conceived 
And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
To me ; for when they list into the womb 
That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw 
My bowels, their repast ; then bursting forth 
Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round, 
That rest or intermission none I find. 
Before mine eyes in opposition sits 
Grim Death my son and foe, who sets them on, 
And me his parent would full soon devour 
For want of other prey, but that he knows 
His end with mine involved ; and knows that I 
Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
Whenever that shall be ; so Fate pronounced. 
But thou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun 
His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 
To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
Though temper'd heavenly ; for that mortal dint, 
Save he who reigns above, none can resist. 
She finish'd, and the subtle fiend his lore 
Soon learn'd now milder, and thus answer'd smooth. 
Dear daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire, 
And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
Of dalliance had with thee in heaven, and joys 
Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 
Befall'n us, unforeseen, unthought of, know 
I come no enemy, but to set free 
PVom out this dark and dismal house of pain, 
Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly host 
Of spirits that, in our just pretences arm'd, 
Fell with us from on high : from them I go 
This uncouth errand sole, and one for all 
Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
Th' unfounded deep, and through the void immense 



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^ — ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 53 

To search with wandering quest a place foretold 

Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now 

Created, vast and round, a place of bliss 

In the purlieus of heaven, and therein placed 

A race of upstart creatures, to supply 

Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed, 

Lest heav'n surcharged with potent multitude 

Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or aught 

Than this more secret, now designed, I haste 

To know, and, this once known, shall soon return. 

And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 

Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 

Wing silently the buxom air, imbalm'd 

With odors ; there ye shall be fed and fill'd 

Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey. 

He ceased, for both seem'd highly pleased, and Death 
Grinn'd horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
His famine should be fill'd, and blest his maw 
Destined to that good hour : no less rejoiced 
His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : 

The key of this infernal pit by due, 
And by command of heav'n's all-powerful King, 
I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
These adamantine gates ; against all force 
Death ready stands to interpose his dart. 
Fearless to be o'ermatch'd by living might. 
But what owe I to his commands above, 
Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 
Into this gloom of Tartarus profound. 
To sit in hateful office, here confined, 
Inhabitant of heav'n, and heav'nly-born. 
Here, in perpetual agony and pain. 
With terrors and with clamors compass'd round 
Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed? 
Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
My being gav'st me ; whom should I obey 
■ 



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■e? 



54 PARADISE LOST. 

But thee? whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon 
To that new world of light and bliss, among 
The Gods who live at ease, where I shall reign 
At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
Thy daughter and thy darling, without end. 
Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; 
And towards the gate rolling her bestial train, 
Forthwith the huge portcullis high up drew, 
Which but herself not all the Stygian powers 
Could once have moved ; then in the keyhole turns 
Th' intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
Unfastens : on a sudden open fly 
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut 
Excell'd her power ; the gates wide open stood, 
That with extended wings a banner'd host 
Under spread ensigns marching might pass through 
With horse and chariots rank'd in loose array ; 
So wide they stood, and like a furnace mouth 
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. 
Before their eyes in sudden view appear 
The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark 
Illimitable ocean, without bound, 

Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth, 
And time and place are lost; where eldest Night 
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature,' hold 
Eternal anarchy amidst the noise 
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand : 
For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, 



1 AH the ancients believed that Night (or darkness) existed from the beginning, and that 
Chaos (or confusion) was the origin of all things. 



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PARADISE LOST. 55 

Strive here for mast'ry, and to battle bring 

Their embryon atoms; they around the flag 

Of each his faction, in their several clans, 

Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow, 

Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands 

Of Barca or Cyrene's^ torrid soil, 

Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 

Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, 

He rules a moment; Chaos umpire sits, 

And by decision more imbroils the fray 

By which he reigns : next him high arbiter 

Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss. 

The womb of nature and perhaps her grave, 

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 

But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd 

Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight. 

Unless th' almighty Maker them ordain 

His dark materials to create more worlds ; 

Into this wild abyss the wary fiend * 

Stood on the brink of hell, and look'd a while. 

Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 

He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd 

With noises loud and ruinous, to compare 

Great things with small, than when Bellona storms, 

With all her battering engines bent to rase 

Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 

Of heav'n were falling, and these elements 

In mutiny had from her axle torn 

The stedfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans 

He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke 

Uplifted spurns the ground ; thence many a league 

As in a clouded chair ascending rides 

Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 

A vast vacuity: all unawares 

1 A city and province of Libya. 



V. 







^ 



56 PARADISE LOST. 

Flutt'ring his pennons vain plumb down he drops 
Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour 
Down had been falhng, had not by ill chance 
The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud 
Instinct with fire and nitre hurried him 
As many miles aloft : that fury stay'd, 
Quenched in a boggy syrtis, neither sea, 
Nor good dry land : nigh foundered on he fares, 
Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 
Half flying; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
As when a gryphon^ through the wilderness 
With winged course o'er hill or moory dale 
Pursues the Arimaspian,^ who by stealth 
Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd 
The guarded gold : so eagerly the fiend 
O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, 
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. 
At length a universal hubbub wild 
Of stunning sounds and voices all confused, 
Borne thiough the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
, With loudest vehemence : thither he plies. 

Undaunted to meet there whatever power 
Or spirit of the nethermost abyss 
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies, 
Bordering on light ; when straight behold the throne 
Of Choas, and his dark pavilion spread 
Wide on the wasteful Deep: with him enthroned 
Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things. 
The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 
Orcus and Ades,^ and the dreaded name 

1 Gryphon, a fabulous creature ; a lion with an eagle's head, said to guard gold mines. 
* The Arimaspians were a one-eyed people of Scythia, who took gold, when they could 
get it, from the gryphons who guarded it. See Pliny's " Natural History.'' lib. vii. c. 2. 
^ Orchus, Pluto; Adas, a personification, any dark place. — Richard.sont. 



r 



[> 




IVtt/i head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way. 
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. 



Page 56. 



i 



f ^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 57 

Of Demogorgon ;' Rumor next, and Chance, 
And Tumult, and Confusion, all imbroil'd, 
And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
To whom Satan turning boldly, thus. — Ye Powers, 
And Spirits of this nethermost abyss. 
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 
With purpose to explore or to disturb 
The secrets of your realm ; but by constraint, 
Wand'ring this darksome desert, as my way 
Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek 
What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds 
Confine with heav'n ; or if some other place. 
From your dominion won, th' ethereal King 
Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
I travel this profound; direct my course ; 
Directed, no mean recompense it brings 
To your behoof, if I that region lost, 
All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce 
To her original darkness and your sway. 
Which is my present journey, and once more 
Erect the standard there of ancient Night ; 
Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge. 
Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old, 
With falt'ring speech and visage incomposed, 
Answer'd. I know thee, stranger, who thou art, 
That mighty leading angel, who of late 
Made head against heav'n's King, though overthrown, 
I saw and heard ; for such a numerous host 
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep, 
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 
Confusion worse confounded; and heav'n gates 
Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands 
Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 

1 A fiend, whose very name the heathen feared to pronounce. 



a— 



<b 



58 FARAD/SB LOST. 

Keep residence ; if all I can will serve, 
That little which is left so to defend, 
Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils 
Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night: first hell, 
Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath ; 
Now lately heaven and earth, another world. 
Hung o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain 
To that side heav'n from whence your legions fell 
If that way be your walk, you have not far; 
So much the nearer danger : go and speed ; 
Havock, and spoil, and ruin are my gain. 

He ceased ; and Satan stay'd not to reply. 
But glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
With fresh alacrity and force renew'd 
Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire, 
Into the wild expanse, and through the shock 
Of fighting elements, on all sides round 
Environ'd, wins his way; harder beset 
And more endanger'd, than when Argo^ pass'd 
Through Bosphorus betwixt the justling rocks : 
Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunned 
Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steer'd, 
So he with difficulty and labor hard 
Moved on, with difficulty and labor he ; 
But he once past, soon after when man fell. 
Strange alteration ! Sin and death amain 
Following his track, such was the will of Heav'n, 
Paved after him a broad and beaten way 
Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
Tamely endured a bridge of wond'rous length. 
From hell continued, reaching th' utmost orb 
Of this frail world ; by which the spirits perverse 
With easy intercourse pass to and fro 



1 The ship in which Jason and his companions sailed to fetch the golden fleece from 
Colchis, in the Black Sea, 



^ 



--& 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 59 

To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 
God and good angels guard by special grace. 
But now at last the sacred influence 
Of light appears, and from the walls of heav'n 
Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 
A glimmering dawn : here Nature first begins 
Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire 
As from her outmost works, a broken foe, 
With tumult less and with less hostile din, 
That Satan with less toil and now with ease 
Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, 
And like a weather-beaten vessel holds 
Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; 
Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 
Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
Far off th' empyreal heav'n, extended wide 
In circuit, undetermined square or round. 
With opal towers and battlements adorn'd 
Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 
And fast by hanging in a golden chain 
This pendant world,' in bigness as a star 
Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 
Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge. 
Accursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 

1 See Measure for Measure, Act iii, Sc. i. 



^ ^ 



^ 



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ZJ 



60 



PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK III. 

THE ARGUMENT, 

God sitting on his throne sees Satan flying towards this world, thea newly created ; 
shows him to the Son, who sat at his right hand ; foretells the success of Satan in perverting 
mankind ; clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man free, 
and able enough to have withstood his tempter ; yet declares his purpose of grace towards 
him. in regard he fell not of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduced. The Son of 
God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man ; 
but God again declares, that grace cannot be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of 
divine justice ; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to Godhead, and therefore 
with ai; liis progeny devoted to death must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to 
answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself 
a ransom for Man; the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exalta- 
tion above all names in heaven and earth; commands all the Angels to adore him; they 
obey, and, hymning to their harps in full cnoir, celebrate the Father and the Son. Mean- 
while Satan alights upon the bare convex of this world's outermost orb ; where wandering 
ha first finds a place, since called the Limbo of Vanity ; what persons and things fly up 
thither; thence comes to the gate of heaven, described ascending by stairs, and the waters 
above the firmament that flow about it : his passage thence to the orb of the sun ; he finds 
there Uriel the regent of that orb ; but first changes himself into the shape of a meaner 
angel; and pretending a zealous desire to behold the new creation, and Man whom God 
had placed here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed; alights first 
on Mount Niphates. 

Hail holy light, offspring of heav'n first-born 

Or of th' Eternal co-eternal beam 

May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light/ 

And never but in unapproached light 

Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 

Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 

Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, 

Whose fountain who shall tell?^ before the sun, 

Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice 

Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 

The rising world of waters dark and deep, 

Won from the void and formless infinite. 



1 I St. John i. s. I Tim. vi. 16. 



* Job xxxviii. 19. 



^ 



■P 



* 



"^ 



PARADISE LOST. 6i 

Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 

Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 

In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 

Through utter and through middle darkness borne, 

With other notes, than to th' Orphean lyre/ 

I sung of Chaos and eternal Night, 

Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down 

The dark descent, and up to reascend, 

Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe, 

And feel thy sov'reign vital lamp ; but thou 

Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 

To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 

So thick a drop serene ' hath quench'd their orbs, 

Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more 

Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt 

Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 

Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief 

Thee Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, 

That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow. 

Nightly I visit ; nor sometimes forget 

Those other two equall'd with me in fate, 

So were I equall'd with them in renown. 

Blind Thamyris^ and blind Maeonides,^ 

And Tiresias^ and Phineus'' prophets old. 

Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 

Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 

Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid 

Tunes her nocturnal note : thus with the year 

Seasons return, but not to me returns 

Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn. 

Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 



1 Orpheus wrote a hymn to Night, addressing her as " Mother of gods and men." 

2 Milton's blindness was caused by g'uUa serena. 

3 A Thracian who invented the Doric measure. — Newton. * Homer. 
» A blind Theban prophet.— NewtON. ^ King of Arcadia. — Newton. 




-(b 



62 PARADISE LOST. 

Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; 

But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 

Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 

Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 

Presented with a universal blank 

Of nature's works to me expunged and rased, 

And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 

So much the rather thou celestial Light 

Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 

Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence 

Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 

Of things invisible to mortal sight. 

Now had the Almighty Father from above, 
From the pure empyrean where he sits 
High throned above all highth, bent down his eye, 
His own works and their works at once to view. 
About him all the sanctities of heaven 
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
Beatitude past utterance ; on his right 
The radiant image of his glory sat, 
His only Son : on earth He first beheld 
Our two first parents, yet the only two 
Of mankmd, in the happy garden placed, 
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, 
Uninterrupted joy, unrivall'd love, 
In blissful solitude: He then survey'd 
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 
Coasting the wall of heav'n on this side night 
In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet 
On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd 
Firm land imbosom'd without firmament, 
Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
Him God beholding from His prospect high, 
Wherein past, present, futuie. He beholds. 
Thus to His only Son foreseeing spake. 



4^ 



4 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 63 

Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage 
Transports our adversary, whom no bounds 
Prescribed, no bars of hell, nor all the chains 
Heap'd on him there, not yet the main abyss 
Wide interrupt, can hold, so bent he seems 
On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
Upon his own rebellious head. And now 
Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way 
Not far off heav'n, in the precincts of light, 
Directly towards the new created world, 
And man there placed, with purpose to assay 
If him by force he can destroy, or worse, 
By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert ; 
For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
And easily trangress the sole command, 
Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall 
He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault ? 
Whose but his own ? ingrate, he had of me 
All he could have : I made him just and right, 
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
Such I created all th' ethereal Powers 
And Spirits, both them who stood and them who fail'd: 
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love. 
Where only, what they needs must do, appear'd. 
Not what they would ? what praise could they receive ? 
What pleasure I from such obedience paid. 
When will and reason (reason also is choice,) 
Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, 
Made passive both, had served necessity, 
Not me ? They therefore, as to right belong'd, 
So were created, nor can justly accuse 
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate ; 
As if predestination over-ruled 
Their will, disposed by absolute decree 



^ 



4 



64 PARADISE LOST. 

Or high foreknowledge : they themselves decreed 
Their own revolt, not I : if I foreknew, 
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
So without least impulse or shadow of fate, 
Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
They trespass, authors to themselves in all, 
Both what they judge and what they choose ; for so 
I form'd them free, and free they must remain, 
Till they enthrall themselves ; I else must change 
Their nature, and revoke the high decree, 
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd 
Their freedom ; they themselves ordain'd their fall. 
The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
Self-tempted, self-depraved: man falls deceived 
By the other first : man therefore shall find grace. 
The other none: in mercy and justice both, 
Through heav'n and earth, so shall my glory excel ; 
But mercy first and last shall brightest shine. 

Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fiU'd 
All heav'n, and in the blessed spirits elect 
Sense of new joy ineffable diffused. 
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
Most glorious, in him all his father shone 
Substantially express'd,' and in his face 
Divine compassion visibly appear'd, 
Love without end, and without measure grace ; 
Which uttering thus he to his father spake. 

O Father, gracious was that word which closed 
Thy sov'reign sentence, that man should find grace ; 
For which both heav'n and earth shall high extol 
Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound 
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest. 

J Heb. i. 3.— Hume. 

^ ^ -£? 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 65 

For should man finally be lost, should man 
Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son. 
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join'd 
With his own folly ? that be from thee far, 
That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
Of all things made, and judgest only right. 
Or shall the adversary thus obtain 
His end, and frustrate thine ? shall he fulfil 
His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught, 
Or proud return though to his heavier doom, 
Yet with revenge accomplish'd, and to hell 
Draw after him the whole race of mankind. 
By him corrupted ? or wilt thou thyself 
Abolish thy creation, and unmake, 
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made ? 
So should thy goodness and thy greatness both 
Be question'd and blasphemed without defence. 

To whom the great Creator thus replied. 
O Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
Son of my bosom, Son who art alone 
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 
All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 
As my eternal purpose hath decreed : 
Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will. 
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
Freely vouchsafed : once more I will renew 
His lapsed powers, though forfeit and enthrall'd 
By sin to foul exorbitant desires : 
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 
On even ground against his mortal foe, 
By me upheld, that he may know how frail 
His fall'n condition is, and to me owe 
All his deliv'rance, and to none but me. 
Some I have chosen of peculiar grace 
Elect above the rest ; so is my will : 
The rest shall hear me call, ?.nd oft be warn'd 

5 



'^- 



i 



: ^ -^ 

66 PARADISE LOST. 

Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
Th' incensed Deity, wliile offer'd grace 
Invites ; for I will clear their senses dark. 
What may suffice, and soften stony hearts^ 
To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 
To prayer, repentance, and obedience due. 
Though but endeavor'd with sincere intent, 
Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
And I will place within them as a guide 
My umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear, 
Light after light well used they shall attain, 
And to the end persisting safe arrive. 
This my long sufferance and my day of grace 
They who neglect and scorn shall never taste ; 
But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, 
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall ; 
And none but such from mercy I exclude. 

But yet all is not done ; man disobeying 

Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins 
Against the high supremacy of heav'n, 

Affecting Godhead, and so losing all. 

To expiate his treason hath naught left, 

But to destruction sacred and devote. 

He with his whole posterity must die ; 

Die he or justice must; unless for him 

Some other able, and as willing, pay 

The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 

Say, lieav'nly Powers, where shall we find such love? 

Which of you will be mortal to redeem 

Man's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save ?^ 

Dwells in all heaven charity so dear ? 

He ask'd, but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, 

And silence was in heav'n : on man's behalf 

Patron or intercessor none appear'd, 

1 Ezek. xxxvi. 26. ^ i Peter iii. 18. 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 6/ j 

i 

Much lest that durst upon liis own head draw 
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
And now without redemption all mankind 
Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell 
By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
In whom the fulness dwells of love divine. 
His dearest mediation thus renew'd. 

Father, thy word is pass'd, man shall find grace ; 
And shall grace not find means, that finds her way, 
The speediest of thy wing'd messengers, 
To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
Comes unprevented, unimplored, unsought? 
Happy for man, so coming; he her aid 
Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost ; 
Atonement for himself or offering meet. 
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring. 
Behold me then, me for him, life for life, 
I offer, on me let thine anger fall ; 
Account me man ; I for his sake will leave 
Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
Well pleased ; on me let Death wreak all his rage ; 
Under his gloomy power I shall not long 
Lie vanquish'd; thou hast given me to possess 
Life in myself for ever, by thee I live,^ 
Though now to Death I yield, and am his due 
All that of me can die ; yet that debt paid, 
Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
His prey, nor suffer my unsjjotted soul 
For ever with corruption there to dwell ■} 
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
My vanquisher, spoil'd of his vaunted spoil ; 
Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarm'd. 

1 John V. 26. 2 Psalm xvi. lo. 

^ ^ 



^ ;- ^ 

68 PARADISE LOST. 

I through the ample air in triumph high 
Shall lead hell captive ^ maugre hell, and show 
The powers of darkness bound. Thou, at the sight 
Pleased, out of heaven shalt look down and smile, 
While by thee raised I ruin all my foes, 
Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave :^ 
Then with the multitude of my redeem'd 
Shall enter heaven long absent, and return. 
Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
And reconcilement: wrath shall be no more 
Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire. 

His words here ended, but his meek aspect 
Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
To mortal men, above which only shone 
Filial obedience : as a sacrifice 
Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will 
Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
All heav'n, what this might mean and whither tend 
Wond'ring; but soon th' Almighty trhus reply'd : 

O thou in heav'n and earth the only peace 
Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou 
My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dear 
To me are all my works, nor man the least, 
Though last created, that for him I spar 
Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save. 
By losing thee awhile, the whole race lost. 
Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeem 
Their nature also to thy nature join ; 
And be thyself man among men on earth, 
Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed, 
By wondrous birth : be thou in Adam's room 
The head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 
As in him perish all men, so in thee, 



1 Psalm Ixviii. i8. Col. ii. 15. ' i Cor. xv. 26. 



^ 

PARADISE LOST. 69 

As from a second root, shall be restored/ 
As many as are restored, without thee none. 
His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit 
Imputed shall absolve them who renounce 
Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
Receive new life. So man, as is most just. 
Shall satisfy for man, be judged and die; 
And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
His brethren, ransom'd with his own dear life. 
So heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
Giving to death, and dying to redeem ; 
So dearly to redeem what hellish hate 
So easily destroy'd, and still destroys 
In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
Nor shalt thou by descending to assume 
Man's nature lessen or degrade thine own. 
Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss 
Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
God-like fruition, quitted all to save 
A world from utter loss, and hast been found 
By merit more than birthright Son of God, 
Found worthiest to be so by being good, 
Far more than great or high ; because in thee 
Love hath abounded more than glory abounds; 
Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
With thee thy manhood also to this throne ; 
Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign 
Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man, 
Anointed universal king; all power 
I give thee, reign for ever, and assume 
Thy merits ; under thee as head supreme 
■ Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce : 
All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide^ 

1 I Cor. XV. 22. ' Phil. ii. lo 

a^ : ^ 



! 70 PARADISE LOST. 

f 

In heav'n, or earth, or under earth in hell ; 
When thou attended gloriously from heav'n 
Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
The summoning archangels to proclaim 
Thy dread tribunal: forthwith from all winds 
The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
Of all past ages, to the general doom 
Shall hasten, such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shall judge 
Bad men and angels; they arraign'd shall sink 
Beneath thy sentence ; hell, her numbers full, 
Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile 
The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring 
New heav'n and earth,^ wherein the just shall dwell. 
And after all their tribulations long 
I See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 

) With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth : 

] Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by,^ 

For regal sceptre then no more shall need, 
God shall be all in alL^ But all ye Gods 
Adore him, who to compass all this dies. 
Adore the Son, and honor him as me. 

No sooner had th' Almighty ceased, but all 
The multitude of angels with a shout, 
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
As from blest voices, uttering joy, heav'n rung 
W^ith jubilee, and loud hosannas fill'd 
Th' eternal regions. Lowly reverent 
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground 
With solemn adoration down they cast * 
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold 
Immortal amarant,^ a flow'r which once 



1 2 Peter iii. 12, 13. 2 Heb. i. 6. ^ i Cor. xv. 24. * Rev. iv. 10. 

5 A flower of a purple velvet color. It was supposed not to die when g;iihered, but re- 
covered its lustre when sprinkled with water. The name is Greek for "unfading."— Hume. 



^ 



-e 



s- 



PARADISE LOST. yi 

In Paradise fast by the Tree of Life 

Began to bloom, but soon for man's offence 

To heav'n removed, where first it grew, there grows. 

And flow'rs aloft shading the fount of life. 

And where the river of bliss through midst of heav'n 

Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream ; 

With these that never fade the spirits elect 

Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams ; 

Now in loose garlands thick thrown off; the bright 

Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 

Impurpled with celestial roses smiled. 

Then crown'd again their golden harps they took, 

Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 

Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 

Of charming symphony they introduce 

Their sacred song, and waken raptures high ; 

No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 

Melodious part, such concord is in heav'n. 

Thee Father first they sung. Omnipotent, 
Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
Eternal King ; Thee author of all being, 
Fountain of light. Thyself invisible 
Amidst the glorious brightness where Thou sitt'st 
Throned inaccessible, but when. Thou shad'st 
The full blaze of Thy beams, and through a cloud 
Draw round about Thee like a radiant shrine, 
Dark with excessive bright Thy skirts appear; 
Yet dazzle heav'n, that brightest Seraphim 
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
Thee next they sang of all creation first. 
Begotten Son, 'Divine Similitude, 
In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud 
Made visible, the Almighty Father shines. 
Whom else no creature can behold : on Thee 
Impress'd th' effulgence of His glory abides ; 
Transfused on Thee his ample Spirit rests. 



^ 



V0- Qp 

72 PARADISE LOST. 

He heav'n of heavens and all the powers therein 
By Thee created, and by Thee threw down 
Th' aspiring Dominations. Thou that day 
Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
Nor stop thy flaming chariot wheels, that shook 
Heav'n's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 
Thou drov'st of warring angels disarray'd. 
Back from pursuit Thy powers with loud acclaim 
Thee only extoll'd, Son of Thy Father's might, 
To execute fierce vengeance on his foes ; 
Not so on man ; him thro' their malice fall'n, 
Father of mercy and grace. Thou didst not doom 
So strictly ; but much more to pity incline. 
No sooner did Thy dear and only Son 
Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail man 
So strictly, but much more to pity inclined, 
He to appease Thy wrath, and end the strife 
Of mercy and justice in Thy face discern'd, 
Regardless of the bliss wherein He sat 
Second to Thee, offer'd himself to die 
For man's offence. O unexampled love. 
Love nowhere to be found less than Divine ! 
Hail Son of God, Saviour of men. Thy name 
Shall be the copious matter of my song 
Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 
Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin. 

Thus they in heav'n, above the starry sphere, 
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
Pilcanwhile upon the firm opacous globe 
Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
The luminous inferior orbs, inclosed 
From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old, 
Satan alighted walks : a globe far off 
It seem'd, now seems a boundless continent. 
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night 
Starless exposed, and ever-threat'ning storms 

4^ ^ ^ 



I 

PARADIS'E LOST. 73 

Of Chaos blust'ring round, inclement sky ; 

Save on that side which from the wall of heav'n 

Though distant far some small reflection gains 

Of glimmering air, less vex'd with tempest loud 

Here walk'd the fiend at large in spacious field. 

As when a vulture on Imaus ^ bred, 

Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 

Dislodging from a region scarce of prey 

To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids 

On hills where flocks are fed, flies towards the springs 

Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 

But in his way lights on the barren plains 

Of Sericana,^ where Chineses drive 

With sails and wind their cany wagons light : 

So en this windy sea of land the fiend 

Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey, 

Alone, for other creature in this place ^ 

Living or lifeless to be found was none, 

None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 

Up hither like aerial vapors flew 

Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 

With vanity had fill'd the works of men : 

Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 

Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 

Or happiness in this or th' other life ; 

All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 

Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 

Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 

Fit retribution, empty as their deeds : 

All th' unaccomplish'd works of nature's hand, 

Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd, 

Dissolved en earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 



1 A mountain in Asia. Its name signifies snowy. It is the eastern boundary of Western 
Tartary. 

2 Serica lies between China on the east and Imaus on the west. — Xevvton'. ■'' Limbo. 



^ ^ ^ 

74 PARADISE LOST. 

Till final dissolution, wander here, 

Not in the neighb'ring moon, as some have drearn'd ;^ 

Those argent fields more likely habitants, 

Translated saints, or middle spirits hold 

Betwixt th' angelical and human kind : 

Hither of ill-join'd sons and daughters born^ 

First fi-om the ancient world those giants came 

With many a vain exploit, though then renown'd : 

The builders next of Babel on the plain 

Of Sennaar, and still with vain design 

New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build : 

Others came single; he who to be deem'd 

A God leap'd fondly into ^tna flames, 

Empedocles,^ and he who to enjoy 

Plato's Elysium leap'd into the sea, 

Cleombrotus,^ and many more too long, 

Embryoes and idiots, eremites and friars, 

White, black, and grey,^ with all their trumpery. 

Here pilgrims roam, that stray'd so far to seek 

In Golgotha him dead, who lives in heav'n ; 

And they who to be sure of paradise 

Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 

Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised f 

They pass the planets seven, and pass the fix'd. 

And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs 

The trepidation talk'd,'' and that first moved : 

And now St. Peter at heav'n's wicket seems 

To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 

1 Ariosto, in the "Orlando Furioso." 

2 The sons of God "ill-joined" with the daughters of "men."' See Gen. vi. 4. Subject 
of Moore's "Loves of the Angels," and Byron's "Heaven and Earth." 

2 A Pythagorean philosopher. His attempt at disappearing in an extraordinary m.^nner 
from the earth was defeated by the volcano throwing back his iron pattens. 

■* An Epirot. '•> Carmelites, Dominicans, and Franciscans. 

•i In the dark ages, a ridiculous superstition prevailed that a dying sinner who put on the 
habit of a religious order was sure of salvation. It was frequently done. 

' Milton speaks here according to Ptolemy's astronomy. — Fro?n Newton, 



s ^ 



/ 



PARADISE LOST. 

Of heav'n's ascent they lift their feet, when, lo ! 

A violent cross wind from either coast 

Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry 

Into the devious air : then might ye see 

Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers tost 

And flutter'd into rags ; then reliques, beads. 

Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 

The sport of winds : all these upwhirl'd alofl 

Fly o'er the back side of the world far off, 

Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd 

The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 

Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod. 

All this dark globe the fiend found as he pass'd. 

And long he wander'd, till at last a gleam 

Of dawning light turn'd thitherward in haste 

His travelled steps ; far distant he descries. 

Ascending by degrees magnificent 

Up to the wall of heav'n a structure high, 

At top whereof, but far more rich appear'd 

The work as of a kingly palace gate, 

With frontispiece of diamond and gold 

Imbellish'd ; thick with sparkling orient gems 

The portal shone, inimitable on earth 

By model or by shading pencil drawn. 

The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw ^ 

Angels ascending and descending, bands 

Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 

To Padan-Aram in the field of Luz, 

Dreaming by night under the open sky, 

And waking cried, T/iis is the gate of heav?i. 

Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 

There always, but drawn up to heav'n sometimes 

Viewless, and underneath a bright sea flow'd 

Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 

1 Gen. xxviii. 12, 13. 

^fe- ^ 



a- 



^ 



j6 PARADISE LOST. 

Who after came from earth saihng arrived 

Wafted by angels, or flew o'er the lake, 

Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 

The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 

The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 

His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss: 

Direct against which open'd from beneath. 

Just o'er the blissful seat of paradise, 

A passage down to th' earth, a passage wide, 

Wider by far than that of after-times 

Over mount Sion, and, though that were large. 

Over the Promised Land to God so dear, 

By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 

On high behests his angels to and fro 

Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard. 

From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood, 

To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 

Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore ; 

So wide the op'ning seem'd, where bounds were set 

To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 

Satan from hence now on the lower stair, 

That scaled by steps of gold to heaven gate, 

Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 

Of all this world at once. As when a scout 

Through dark and desert ways with peril gone 

All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn 

Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 

Which to his eye discovers unaware 

The goodly prospect of some foreign land 

First-seen, or some renown'd metropolis. 

With glistering spires and pinnacles adorn'd, 

Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams : 

Such wonder seized, though after heaven seen, 

The spirit malign ; but much more envy seized 

At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 

Round he surveys, and well might, where he stood 

^ ^ ^ 



s-^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 77 

So high above the cirding canopy 

Of night's extended shade, from eastern point 

Of Libra to the fleecy star ^ that bears 

Andromeda far off Atlantic seas 

Beyond th' horizon ; then from pole to pole 

He views in breadth, and without longer pause 

Down right into the w^orld's first region throws 

His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 

Through the pure marble air his oblique way 

Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 

Stars distant, but nigh hand seem'd other worlds, 

Or other worlds they seem'd, or happy isles, 

Like those Hesperian gardens' famed of old, 

Fortunate fields, and groves, and flow'ry vales, 

Thrice happy isles ; but who dwelt happy there 

He stay'd not to enquire : above them all 

The golden sun in splendor likest heaven 

Allured his eye : thither his course he bends 

Through the calm firmament ; but up or down, 

By centre or eccentric, hard to tell, 

Or longitude, where the great luminary. 

Aloof the vulgar constellations thick. 

That from his lordly eye keep distance due, 

Dispenses light from far ; they as they move 

Their starry dance in numbers that compute 

Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp 

Turn swift their various motions, or are turn'd 

By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 

The universe, and to each inward part 

With gentle penetration, though unseen, 

Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep ; 

So wond'rously was set his station bright. 



' Aries, i.e., from one half of the ecliptic to the other, from east to west. The constella- 
tion Andromeda is immediately above or over Aries. — Newton. 
2 The Cape Verde Islands ; the "Fortunate Islands." 

4) ^ -4" 



.i^^ : -<b 

78 PARADISE LOST. 

There lands the fiend, a spot like which perhaps 
Astronomers in the sun's lucent orb 
Through h-s glazed optic tube yet never saw. 
The place he found beyond expression bright 
Compared with aught on earth, metal or stone ; 
Not all parts like, but all alike inform'd 
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire ; 
If metal, part seem'd gold, part silver clear ; 
If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, 
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
In Aaron's breast-plate,' and a stone ^ besides 
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen. 
That stone, or like to that which here below 
Philosophers in vain so long have sought. 
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind 
Volatile Hermes,* and call up unbound 
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
Drain'd through a limbeck to his native form. 
What wonder then if fields and regions here 
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
Portable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
Th' arch-chemic sun so far from us remote 
Produces with terrestrial humor mix'd 
Here in the dark so many precious thmgs 
Of color glorious and effect so rare? 
Here matter new to gaze the devil met 
Undazzled, far and wide his eye commands, 
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade. 
But all sun-shine ; as when his beams at noon 
Culminate from th' Equator, as they now 

1 Exod. xxviii. 15-21. 

2 The philosopher's stone, supposed to have the power (if found) of turning the baser 
metals into gold. 

3 Quicksilver, called Hermes by the alchemists. The names of heathen gods were applied 
to the materials of the alchemist's laboratory. Proteus was a sea-god capable of transform- 
ing himself into various shapes. 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 79 

Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 

Shadow from body opaque can fall, and the air, 

Nowhere so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray 

To objects distant far, whereby he soon 

Saw within ken a glorious angel stand, 

The same whom John saw also in the sun :" 

His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid ; 

Of beaming sunny rays, a golden tiar 

Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 

Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 

Lay waving round ; on some great charge employ'd 

He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep. 

Glad was the spirit impure, as now in hope 

To find who might direct his wand'ring flight 

To paradise the happy seat of man, 

His journey's end, and our beginning woe. 

But first he casts to change his proper shape, 

Which else might work him danger or delay : 

And now a stripl'ng Cherub he appears. 

Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 

Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb 

Suitable grace diffused, so well he feign'd ; 

Under a coronet his flowing hair 

In curls on either cheek play'd ; wings he wore 

Of many a color'd plume sprinkled with gold ; 

His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 

Before his decent steps a silver wand. 

He drew not nigh unheard, the angel bright. 

E'er he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd, 

Admonish'd by his ear, and straight was known 

Th' arch-angel Uriel,^ one of the sev'n 

Who in God's presence nearest to his throne 



1 Rev. xix. 17. 

2 Uriel is derived from two Hebrew words, signifying God is my light. — NEWTON. See 
mention made of him in Apocrypha, 2 Esdras, 4, 5. 



^ '- — ^ ^ 

80 PARADISE LOST. 

Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 

That run through all the heav'ns, or down to th' earth 

Bear his swift errands, over moist and dry, 

O'er sea and land : him Satan thus accosts. 

Uriel, for thou of those sev'n spirits that stand 
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 
The first art wont his great authentic will 
Interpreter through highest heav'n to bring, 
Where all his son-s thy embassy attend ; 
And here art likeliest by supreme decree 
Like honor to obtain, and as His eye 
To visit oft this new creation round ; 
Unspeakable desire to see, and know 
All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man, 
His chief delight and favor, him for whom 
All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd 
Hath brought me from the choirs of Cherubim 
Alone thus wand'ring. Brightest Seraph, tell 
In which of all these shining orbs hath man 
His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none. 
But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell ; 
That I may find him, and, with secret gaze 
Or open admiration, him behold. 
On whom the great Creator hath bestow'd 
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd ; 
That both in him and all things, as is meet, 
The universal Maker we may praise ; 
Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes 
To deepest hell, and to repair that loss 
Created this new happy race of men 
To serve him better : wise are all his ways. 

So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; 
For neither man nor angel can discern 
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
Invisible, except to God alone, 
By His permissive will through heav'n and earth : 

^ ^ 



f ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 8i 

And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
Where no ill seems ; which now for once beguiled 
Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
The sharpest-sighted spirit of all in heav'n : 
Who to the fraudulent imposter foul 
In his uprightness answer thus return'd. 

Fair angel, thy desire which tends to know 
The works of God, thereby to glorify 
The great Work-master, leads to no excess 
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
From thy empyreal mansion thus alone. 
To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps 
Contented with report hear only in heav'n : 
For wonderful indeed are all His works, 
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
Had in remembrance always with delight : 
But what created mind can comprehend 
Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep ? 
1 saw, when at his word the formless mass, 
This world's material mould, came to a heap : 
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 
Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; 
Till at his second bidding darkness fled, 
Light shone, and order from disorder sprung. 
Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire, 
And this ethereal quintessence of heav'n 
Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars 
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move; 
Each had his place appointed, each his course, 
The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
6 

^ ,-4^ 



^ ^ -^ 

S2 PARADISE LOST. 

Look downward on that globe whose hither side 

With light from hence, though but reflected shines ; 

That place is earth the seat of man, that light 

His day, which else as th' other hemisphere 

Night would invade, but there the neighboring moon, 

So call that opposite fair star, her aid 

Timely interposes, and her monthly round 

Still ending, still renewing, through mid heav'n, 

With borrow'd light her countenance triform 

Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' earth. 

And in her pale dominion checks the night. 

That spot to which I point is paradise, 

Adam's abode, those lofty shades his bower : 

Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires. 

Thus said, he turn'd, and Satan bowing low, 
As to superior spirits is wont in heaven, 
Where honor due and reverence none neglects, 
Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, 
Down from th' ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 
Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel, 
Nor stay'd, till on Niphates' top^ he lights. 



1 A mountain bordering on Mesopotamia, near which the earthly paradise is supposed to 
have been placed, — fretn Hume. 



'^ ■ e 




Towards the coast of Earth beneath, 
Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success. 
Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel. 



Page 82. 



PARADISE LOST, Sx 



BOOK IV. 

The ARGUME>rr. 

Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold 
enterprise which he undertook alone against God and man, falls into many doubts with 
himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despair ; but at length confirms himself in evil, 
journeys on to paradise, whose outward prospect and situation is described, overleaps the 
bounds, sits in the shape of a cormorant on the Tree of life, as the highest in the garden, to 
look about him. The garden described ; Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve ; his wonder 
at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall : overhears 
their discourse, thence gathers that the Tree of knowledge was forbidden tliem to eat of, 
under penalty of death ; and thereon intends to found his temptation, by seducing them to 
transgress: then leaves them awhile to know further of their state by some other mems. 
Meanwhile Uriel descending on a sunbeam warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of 
paradise, that some evil spirit had escaped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the 
shape of a good angel down to paradise, discovered afterwards by his furious gestures in the 
mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve dis- 
course of going to their rest : their bower described ; their evening worship. Gabriel drawing 
forth his bands of nightwatch to walk the round of paradise, appoints two strong angels to 
Adam's bower, lest the evil spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Evesleeping; 
there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though un- 
willing, to Gabriel; by whom questioned, he scornfully answers, prepares resistance ; but 
hindered by a sign from heaven flies out of paradise. 

O FOR that warning voice, which he,^ who saw 
Th' Apocalypse, heard cry in heaven aloud, 
Then when the Dragon,^ put to second rout, 
Came furious down to be revenged on men, 
" Woe to the inhabitants on earth ! " that now, 
While time was, our first parents had been warn'd 
The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped, 
Happily so 'scaped his mortal snare ; for now 
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, 
The tempter ere th' accuser of mankind. 

To wreak on innocent frail man his loss 

P 

1 St. John. Rev. xii. lo. "And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, ..." and 
at verse 13, "Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea ! for the devil is come down 
unto you " 2 Devil. 

<^ ■ ^ 



^ ^ -%; 

84 PARADISE LOST. 

Of that first battle, and his flight to hell : 
Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold, 
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
Begins his dire attempt, which, nigh the birth 
Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast, 
And like a devilish engine back recoils 
Upon himself; horror and doubt distract 
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
The hell within him, for within him hell 
He brings, and round about him, nor from hell 
One step, no more than from himself, can fly 
By change of place : now conscience wakes despair 
That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory 
Of what he was, what is, and what must be, 
Worse; of worse deeds worse suffering must ensue. 
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view 
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad ; 
Sometimes towards heav'n and the full-blazing sun. 
Which now sat high in his meridian tow'r: 
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began. 
O thou that, with surpassing glory crown'd,^ 

Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God 

Of this new world, at whose sight all the stars 

Hide their diminish'd heads, to thee I call. 

But with no friendly voice, and add thy name 

Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams. 
That bring to my remembrance frorrt what state 

1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; 
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, 
Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchless King. 
Ah, wherefore ! He deserved no such return 
From me, whom He created what I was 
In that bright eminence, and with His good 



I Milton originally designed to write a tragedy on the Fall, and this grand speech was 
intended to begin it. This is asserted by Porson on the authority of Milton's nephew, 
Edward Philips. 




Me miserable! -which way shall I fly 
Inflfiite ■wrath, and infinite despair? 



Page 85. 



^- 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 85 

Upbraided none ; nor was His service hard. 

What could be less than to afford Him praise, 

The easiest recompense, and pay Him thanks, 

How due ! yet all His good proved ill in me. 

And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 

I sdein'd' subjection, and thought one step higher 

Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 

The debt immense of endless gratitude, 

So burthensome, still paying, still to owe ; 

Forgetful what from Him I still received, 

And understood not that a grateful mind 

By owing, owes not, but still pays, at once 

Indebted and discharged ; what burden then ? 

O had his powerful destiny ordain'd 

Me some inferior angel, I had stood 

Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 

Ambition ! Yet why not ? some other power 

As great might have aspired, and me though mean 

Drawn to his part ; but other powers as great 

Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within 

Or from without, to all temptations arm'd. 

Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ? 

Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse, 

But heav'n's free love dealt equally to all ? 

Be then His love accursed, since love or hate, 

To me alike, it deals eternal woe : 

Nay cursed be thou since against His thy will 

Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 

Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 

Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? 

Which way I fly is hsU ; myself am hell ; 

And in the lowest deep a lower deep 

Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide ; 

To which the hell I suffer seems a heav'n. 



^ — 

86 PARADISE LOST. 

O then at last relent : is there no place . 
Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? 
None left but my submission ; and that word 
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduced 
With other promises and other vaunts 
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 
Th' Omnipotent. Ay me ! they little know 
How dearly I abide that boast so vain, 
Under what torments inwardly I groan ; 
While they adore me on the throne of hell, 
With diadem and sceptre high advanced 
The lower still I fall, only supreme 
In misery ; such joy ambition finds. 
But say I could repent, and could obtain 
By act of grace my former state ; how soon 
Would highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
What feign'd submission swore : ease would recant 
Vows made in pain, as violent and void. 
For never can true reconcilement grow 
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep ; 
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 
And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear 
Short intermission bought with double smart. 
This knows my Punisher ; therefore as far 
From granting He, as I from begging peace : 
All hope excluded thus, behold in stead 
Of us out-cast, exiled, his new delight, 
Mankind, created, and for him this world. 
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, 
Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost ; 
Evil, be thou my good ; by thee at least 
Divided empire with heav'n's King I hold, 
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 
As man ere long and this new world shall know. 
Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face 

d^ ^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. ^y 

Thrice changed with pale ire, envy, and despair, 

Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd 

His counterfeit, if any eye beheld : 

For heav'nly minds from such distempers foul 

Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware 

Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calm, 

Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 

That practised falsehood under saintly show, 

Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge. 

Yet not enough had practised to deceive 

Uriel once warn'd ; whose eye pursued him down 

The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount 

Saw him disfigured, more than could befall 

Spirit of happy sort : his gestures fierce 

He mark'd and mad demeanor, then alone, 

As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 

So on he fares, and to the border comes 

Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 

Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, 

As with a rural mound, the champain head 

Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 

With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 

Access denied ; and over head up grew 

Insuperable highth of loftiest shade. 

Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 

A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend 

Shade above shade, a woody theatre 

Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 

The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung ; 

Which to our general sire gave prospect large 

Into his nether empire neighboring round. 

And higher than that wall a circling row 

Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit. 

Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue 

Appear'd, with gay enamell'd colors mixt: 

On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams, 



^ 



83 PARADISE LOST. 

Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 
When God hath shower'd the earth ; so lovely seem'd 
That landscape : and of pure now purer air 
Meets his approach, and to the heart inpires 
Vernal delight and joy, able to drive • 

All sadness but despair : now gentle gales 
Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense 
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
Sabean odors from the spicy shore ^ 
Of Araby the blest, with such delay 
Well pleased they slack their course and many a league 
Cheer'd with the greatful smell old Ocean smiles : 
So entertain'd those odorous sweets the fiend 
Who came their bane, though with them better pleased 
Than Asmodeus ^ with the fishy fume. 
That drove him, though enamor'd, from the spouse 
Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 
From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
Now to th' ascent of that steep savage hill 



' The perfumes from the shores of India and its islands can be perceived far out at sea, 
when the wind blows off the land — 

" The spicy breezes 
Blow soft from Ceylon's isle," 
says Bishop Heber in his fine Missionary Hymn ; and every one who has lived in the East 
will remember how oppressive o/t shore the scent-ladened air, heavy with perfume, is. How 
constantly it recalls to one's mind Byron's exquisite lines in the " Bride of Abydos " — 
"The light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume, 
■Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom;" 
but coming on the briny sea breezes this fragrance is delightful to the mariner. It is in 
spring, when the wind blows off the shore, that the air thus becomes the harbinger of a near 
haven. Milton is said to have taken his description from Diodorus Siculus, B. III. 40. — 
Notes on Gray. 

'^ An evil spirit, who, loving Sarah, the daughter of Raguel, would not suffer any of the 
young men who espoused her to live. He was exorcised by the fumes arising from the 
heart and liver of a fish, which Tobit, by the instruction of an angel, burnt on the evening 
of his wedding. See Apocrypha, Tobit, viii. 

^ ^ 



a- 



^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 89 



Satan had journey'd on, pensive and slow ; 

But further way found none, so thick entwined 

As one continued brake, the undergrowth 

Of shrubs and tanghng brushes had perplex'd 

All path of man or beast that past that way. 

One gate there only was, and that looked east 

On th' other side : which when th' arch-felon saw, 

Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt 

At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound 

Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 

Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, 

Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, 

Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve 

In hurdled cotes amid the field secure. 

Leads o'er the fence with ease into the fold : 

Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash 

Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 

Cross-barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 

In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles : 

So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold; 

So since into his church lewd hirelings climb.' 

Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life, 

The middle tree and highest ^ there that grew. 

Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life 

Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death 

To them who lived ; nor on the virtue thought 

Of that life giving plant, but only used 

For prospect, what well used had been the pledge 

Of immortality. So little knows 

Any, but God alone, to value right 

The good before him, but perverts best things 

To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 

Beneath him with new wonder now he views 

To all delight of human sense exposed 



' Gen. ii. 9. 



^ 



^ 



a ^ ^ 

90 PARADISE LOST. 

In narrow room nature's whole wealth, yea more, 

A heav'n on earth : for blissful Paradise 

Of God the garden was, by him in the east 

Of Eden planted ; Eden stretch'd her line 

From Auran* eastward to the royal tow'rs 

Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 

Or where the sons of Eden long before 

Dwelt in Telassar.^ In this pleasant soil 

His far more pleasant garden God ordain'd ; 

Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow 

All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste ; 

And all amid them stood the Tree of Life, 

High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit, 

Of vegetable gold, and next to life 

Our death, the Tree of Knowledge, grew fast by, 

Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill. 

Southward through Eden went a river large, 

Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill 

Pass'd underneath ingulf'd ; for God had thrown 

That mountain as his garden mould, high raised 

Upon the rapid current, which, through veins 

Of porous earth with kindly thirst up drawn, 

Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 

Water'd the garden ; thence united fell 

Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood. 

Which from his darksome passage now appears ; 

And now divided into four main streams 

Runs diverse, wand'ring many a famous realm 

And country, whereof here needs no account ; 

But rather to tell how, if art could tell, 

How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 

Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold. 

With mazy error under pendant shades 

1 Haran. — From Newton. 

2 Isaiah xxxvii. 12. A province of the children of Eden, placed by Ptolemy in Babylonia. — 
From Newton. 



a -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 91 

Ran Nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 

Flow'rs worthy of Paradise, which not nice art 

In beds and curious knots, but nature boon 

Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale and plain, 

Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 

The open field, and where the unpierced shade 

Imbrown'd the noontide bow'rs. Thus was this place 

A happy rural seal: of various view : 

Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm. 

Others whose fruit burnish'd with golden rind 

Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, 

If true, here only, and of delicious taste. 
. Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 

Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, 

Or palmy hillock, or the flow'ry lap 

Of some irriguous valley spread her store, 

Flow'rs of all hue, and without thorn the rose. 

Another side umbrageous grots and caves 

Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 

Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 

Luxuriant : meanwhile murmuring waters fall 

Down the slope hills, dispers'd, or in a lake, 

That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd 

Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
. The birds their choir apply ; airs, vernal airs. 

Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune 

The trembling leaves, while universal Pan,^ 

Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 

Led on th' eternal spring. Not that fair field 

Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flow'rs, 

Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis^ 

1 Pan was a symbol of Nature. The Graces symbolized Spring, Summer, and Autumn. 
The Hours, the time requisite for the production and perfection of things. — Richardson. 

2 Pluto. All the loveliest dreams of mythology, and the places remarkable for natural 
beauty — the Plains of Enna, in Sicily ; the laurel-grove of Daphne, by the River Oronies ; 
the Castalian Spring, haunted by the Muses ; the Greek Isle, where Bacchus was nursed ; the 



^ ^ 

92 PARADISE LOST. 

Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain 

To seek her through the world ; nor that sweet grove 

Of Daphne by Orontes and the inspired 

Castalian spring might with this paradise 

Of Eden strive : nor that Nyseian isle 

Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, 

Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, 

Hid Amalthea and her florid son 

Young Bacchus from his stepdame Rhea's eye ; 

Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, 

Mount Amara,^ though this by some supposed 

True paradise, under the Ethiop line 

By Nilus' head, enclosed with shining rock, 

A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 

From this Assyrian garden, where the fiend 

Saw undelighted, all delight, all kind 

Of living creatures new to sight and strange. 

Two of far nobler shape erect and tall. 
Godlike erect, with native honor clad. 
In native majesty, seem'd lords of all, 
And worthy seem'd : for in their looks divine 
The image of their glorious Maker shone, 
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure. 
Severe, but in true filial freedom placed, 
Whence true authority in men : though both 
Not equal, as their sex not equal, seem'd; 
For contemplation he and valour form'd, 
For softness she and sweet attractive grace ; 
He for God only, she for God in him.^ 
His fair large front and eye sublime declared 
Absolute rule ; and hyacinthine locks 

Happy Valley where the Princes of Abyssinia were nursed — aie here named toexalt the 
wondrous beauty of the earthly Paradise by comparison. 

1 High hills in Ethiopia, under the equator; within their circuit lay the guarded valley 
where the royal children of Abyssinia dw^lt. — Massey. Our readers will be reminded of 
Rasselas. s 1 Cor. xi. 7-9. 

^— _^ 




The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind. 
Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream. 



Page 93- 



sfr 



I' 



PARADISE LOST. 93 

Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 
She as a veil down to the slender waist 
Her unadorned golden tresses wore 
Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets waved 
As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied 
Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
And by her yielded, by him best received, 
Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
And sweet reluctant amorous delay. 
Nor those mysterious parts were then conceal'd ; 
Then was not guilty shame ; dishonest shame 
Of nature's works, honor dishonorable, 
Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind 
With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, 
And banish'd from man's life his happiest life. 
Simplicity and spotless innocence ! 
So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight 
Of Gocf or Angel, for they thought no ill : 
So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair 
That ever since in love's embraces met; 
Adam the goodliest man of men since born 
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
Under a tuft of shade, that on a green 
Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh fountain side 
They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
Of their sweet gard'ning labor than sufficed 
To recommend cool Zephyr, and made ease 
More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 
More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell, 
Nectarine fruits, which the compliant boughs 
Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline 
On the soft downy bank damask'd with flow'rs. 
The savory pulp they chew, and in the rind. 
Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream ; 
Nor gentle purpose nor endearing smiles 



a ^ 

94 PARADISE LOST. 

Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems 
Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league 
Alone as they. About them frisking play'd 
All beasts of th' earth, since wild, and of all chase 
In wood or wilderness, forest or den ; 
Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
Dandled the kid ; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
GamboU'd before them ; th' unwieldly elephant 
To make them mirth used all his might, and wreath'd 
His lithe proboscis ; close the serpent sly 
Insinuating wove with Gordian twine 
His braided train, and of his fatal guile 
Gave proof unheeded ; others on the grass 
Couch'd and now fill'd with pasture gazing sat. 
Or bedward ruminating : for the sun 
Declined was hasting now with prone career 
To th' ocean isles and in th' ascending scale 
Of heav'n the sLars that usher evening rose : 
When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood, 
Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad. 
O hell 1 what do mine eyes with grief behold, 
Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps. 
Not spirits, yet to heav'nly spirits bright 
Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue 
With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
In them divine resemblance, and such grace 
The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd ! 
Ah gentle pair, ye little think how nigh 
Your change approaches, when all these delights 
Will vanish and deliver ye to woe ; 
More woe, the more your taste is now of joy : 
Happy, but for so happy ill secured 
Long to continue ; and this high seat your heav'n 
111 fenced for heav'n to keep out such a foe 
As now is enter'd : yet no purposed foe 



% 



-e 



PARADISE LOST. 95 

To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 

Though I unpitied. League with you I seek, 

And mutual amity, so straight, so close, 

That I with you must dwell, or you with me 

Henceforth : my dwelling haply may not please, 

Like this fair paradise, your sense ; yet such 

Accept, your Maker's work ; He gave it me. 

Which I as freely give : hell shall unfold^ 

To entertain you two, her widest gates. 

And send forth all her kings: there will be room, 

Not like these narrow limits, to receive 

Your numerous offspiing; if no better place. 

Thank him who puts me loth to this revenge 

On you, who wrong me not, for Him who wrong'd. 

And should I at your harmless innocence 

Melt, as I do, yet public reason just. 

Honor and empire with revenge enlarged, 

By conquering this new world, compels me now 

To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor. 

So spake the fiend, and with necessity, 
The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 
Down he alights among the sportful herd 
Of those fourfooted kinds, himself now one, 
Now other, as their shape served best his end 
Nearer to view his prey, and unespied 
To mark what of their state he more might learn 
By word or action mark'd : about them round 
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare, 
Then as a tiger, who by chance had spied 
In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play. 
Strait couches close, then rising changes oft, 
His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground, 
Whence rushing he might surest seize them both 

1 Isaiah xiv. 9. - 



a- 



^ 



96 PARADISE LOST. 

Griped in each paw : when Adam first of men, 
To first of women Eve thus moving speech, 
Turn'd him all ear to hear new utterance flow. 

Sole partner and sole part of all those joys, 
Dearer thyself than all, needs must the Power 
That made us, and for us this ample world. 
Be infinitely good, and of His good 
As liberal and free as infinite, 
That raised us from the dust and placed us here 
In all this happiness, who at His hand 
Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
Aught whereof He hath need. He who requires 
From us no other service than to keep 
This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
In paradise that bear delicious fruit 
So various, not to taste that only Tree 
Of Knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life ; 
So near grows death to life ; whate'er death is, 
Some dreadful thing no doubt ; for well thou know'st 
God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree, 
The only sign of our obedience left 
Among so many signs of power and rule 
Conferr'd upon us, and dominion given 
Over all other creatures that possess 
Earth, air and sea. Then let us not think hard 
One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
Unlimited of manifold delights : 
But let us ever praise him and extol 
His bounty, following our delightful task 
To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers ; 
Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet. 

To whom thus Eve replied. O thou, for whom 
And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh, 
And without whom am to no end, my guide 
And head, what thou hast said is just and right : 



4 



4 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 97 

For we to him indeed all praises owe, 
And daily thanks ; I chiefly, who enjoy 
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
Like consort to thyself canst nowhere find. 
That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
I first awaked, and found myself reposed 
Under a shade on flowers, much wond'ring where 
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how 
Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound 
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved. 
Pure as th' expanse of heav'n ; I thither went 
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 
On the green bank, to look into the clear 
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky. 
As I bent down to look, just opposite 
A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd 
Bending to look on me : I started back, 
It started back ; but pleased I soon return'd. 
Pleased it return'd as soon with answering looks 
Of sympathy and love : there I had fix'd 
Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 
Had not a voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest, 
What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 
With thee it came and goes : but follow me. 
And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 
Thy coming, and thy soft embraces ; he 
Whose image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy 
Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear 
Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd 
Mother of human race. What could I do, 
But follow straight, invisibly thus led? 
Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall, 
Under a plantain ; yet, methought, less fair, 
Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 

7 

^ ^ 



a ^ 

98 PARADISE LOST. 

Than that smooth wat'ry image ; back I turn'd, 
Thou following criedst aloud, Return, fair Eve, 
Whom fliest thou ? whom thou fliest, of him thou art, 
His flesh, his bone ; to give thee being I lent 
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
Substantial life, to have thee by my side 
Henceforth an individual solace dear: 
Part of my soul, I seek thee, and thee claim. 
My other half. With that thy gentle hand 
Seized mine; I yielded, and from that time see 
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace, 
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair. 

So spake our general mother, and, with eyes 
Of conjugal attraction unreproved 
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd 
On our first father; half her swelling breast 
Naked met his under the flowing gold 
Of her loose tresses hid : he, in delight 
Both of her beauty and submissive charms. 
Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds 
That shed May flowers, and press'd her matron lip 
With kisses pure : aside the devil turn'd 
For envy, yet with jealous leer malign 
Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plain'd. 

Sight hateful, sight tormenting ! thus these two 
Imparadised in one another's arms, 
The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill 
Of bliss on bliss, while I to hell am thrust, 
Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, 
Among our other torments not the least, 
Still unfulfiU'd with pain of longing pines. 
Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd 
From their own mouths : all is not theirs it seems ; 
One fatal tree there stands of Knowledge call'd 
Forbidden them to taste : knowledge forbidden ? 

<^ —^ 



f — ^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 99 

Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord 

Envy them that ? can it be sin to know ? 

Can it be death-? and do they only stand 

By ignorance? is that their happy state, 1 

The proof of their obedience and their faith ? 

O fair foundation laid whereon to build 

Their ruin ! hence I will excite their minds 

With more desire to know, and to reject I 

Envious commands, invented with design 

To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt \ 

Equal with Gods ; aspiring to be such. 

They taste and die : what likelier can ensue ? . | 

But first with narrow search I must walk round 

This garden, and no corner leave unspied ; 

A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 

Some wand'ring spirit of heav'n, by fountain side, 

Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 

What further would be learn'd. Live while yc may, 

Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return. 

Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed. 

So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, 
But with sly circumspection, and began 
Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam. 
Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where heav'n 
With earth and ocean meets, the settinor sun 
Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
Against the eastern gate of paradise 
Levell'd his ev'ning rays : it was a rock 
Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, 
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 
Accessible from earth, one entrance high ; 
The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
Betwixt these rocky pillars GabrieP sat, 



1 The angel sent to Daniel (Dan. ix. 21), and to the Virgin Mary and to Zacharias (see 
Luke i. 19 and 26). 



--4^ 



a- ^ 

loo PARADISE LOST. 

Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night; 

About him exercised heroic games 

Th' unarmed youth of heav'n ; but nigh at hand 

Celestial armory, shields, helms, and spears, 

Hung high with diamond flaming and with gold. 

Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 

On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 

In autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fired 

Impress the air, and show the mariner 

From what point of his compass to beware 

Impetuous winds : he thus began in haste. 

Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given 
Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
No evil thing approach or enter in : 
This day at highth of noon came to my sphere 
A spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know 
More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man 
God's latest image: I descried his way 
Bent all on speed, and mark'd his aery gait : 
But in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
Where he first lighted, soon discern'd his looks 
Alien from heav'n, with passions foul obscured : 
Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
Lost sight of him ; one of the banish'd crew, 
I fear, hath ventured from the deep to raise 
New troubles ; him thy care must be to find. 

To whom the winged warrior thus return'd : 
Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, 
Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitt'st, 
See far and wide : in at this gate none pass 
The vigilance here placed, but such as come 
Well known from heav'n; and since meridian hour 
No creature thence. If spirit of other sort, 
So minded, have o'erleap'd these earthy bounds 
On purpose, hard thou know'st it to exclude 
Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 

4 ^ ■ -^ 





~v ^' 


"J 


c 


y\ 




^ 






PARADISE LOST. loi 






But if within the circuit of these walks 


\ 








In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 










Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know. 










So promised he, and Uriel to his charge 


' 








Return'd on that bright beam, whose point now raised 










Bore him slope downward to the sun, now fall'n 










Beneath th' Azores ; whether the prime orb, 










Incredible how swift, had hither roll'd 










Diurnal, or this less volubil earth. 










By shorter flight to th' east, had left him there, 










Arraying with reflected purple and gold 










The clouds that on his western throne attend. 










Now came still evening on, and twilight gray 










Had in her sober livery all things clad ; 










Silence accompanied; for beast and bird. 










They to their grassy couch, these to their nests. 










Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; 








She all night long her amorous descant sung ; 








Silence was pleased : now glow'd the firmament 








With living sapphires; Hesperus that led 


■ 






The starry host rode brightest, till the moon. 








Rising in clouded majesty, at length 








Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light. 


: 






And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 








When Adam thus to Ev^e : Fair consort, the hour 


j 






Of night and all things now retired to rest 








Mind us of like repose, since God hath set 


, 






Labor and rest, as day and night, to men 








Successive, and the timely dew of sleep 










Now falling w^ith soft slumbrous weight inclines 










Our eyelids : other creatures all day long 










Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest : 










Man hath his daily work of body or mind 










Appointed, which declares his dignity, 










And the regard of heaven on all his ways ; 










While other animals unactive ransre. 


1 






. r 


\ 


V - V. 





f 



* 



IC2 PARADISE LOST. 

And of their doings God takes no account. 

To-morrow ere fresh morning streak the east 

With first approach of Hght we must be risen. 

And at our pleasant labor, to reform 

Yon flowery arbors, yonder alleys green, 

Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown. 

That mock our scant manuring, and require 

More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth : 

Those blossoms also and those dropping gums, 

That lie bestrown unsightly and unsmooth, 
f Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease : 

I Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest. 

i To whom thus Eve with perfect beauty adorn'd. 

\ My author and disposer, what thou bidd'st 

I Unargued I obey, so God ordains ; 

God is thy law, thou mine ; to know no more 
i Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 

] With thee conversing I forget all time, 

j All seasons and their change, all please alike : 

I Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 

I With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun. 

When first on this delightful land he spreads 

His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 

Glist'ning with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth 

After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on 

Of grateful ev'ning mild ; then silent night 

With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon. 

And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train : 

But neither breath of morn when she ascends 

With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun 

On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower, 

Glist'ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers. 

Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night 

With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, 

Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet. 

But wherefore all night long shine these ? for whom 

^5 ^ -4" 



PARADISE LOST. 103 

This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes? 

To whom our general ancestor replied. 
Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve, 
Those have their course to finish, round the earth, 
By morrow ev'ning, and from land to land 
In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
Minist'ring light prepared, they set and rise ; 
Lest total darkness should by night regain 
Her old possession, and extinguish life 
In nature and all things, which these soft fires 
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
Of various influence foment and warm, 
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow 
On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. 
These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
Shine not in vain ; nor think, though men were none 
That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise : 
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. 
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold 
Both day and night : how often from the steep 
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
Sole, or responsive each to other's note, 
Singing their great Creator ? oft in bands 
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, 
With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds 
In full harmonic number join'd, their songs 
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven. 

Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd 
On to their blissful bower ; it was a place 
Chosen by the sov'reign planter, when he framed 
All things to man's delightful use : the roof 
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade, 

=-— ^ -^ 



er 



^ 



104 PAR AD/SB LOST. 

Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 

Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 

Acanthus and each odorous bushy shrub 

Fenced up the verdant wall, each beauteous flower, 

Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin 

Rear'd high their flourish'd heads between, and wrought 

Mosaic ; under foot the violet. 

Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay 

Broider'd the ground, more color'd than with stone 

Of costliest emblem : other creature here. 

Beast, bird, insect, or worm, durst enter none ; 

Such was their awe of man. In shadier bower 

More sacred and sequester'd, though but feign'd, 

Pan or Sylvanus never slept ; nor nymph. 

Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess 

With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs, 

Espoused Eve deck'd first her nuptial bed, 

And heav'nly choirs the Hymenaen sung, 

What day the genial angel to our sire 

Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd, 

More lovely than Pandora,^ whom the Gods 

Endow'd with all their gifts, and O too like 

In sad event, when to the unwiser son 

Of Japhet brought by Hermes she ensnared 

Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged 

On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire. 

Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 
Both turn'd, and under open sky adored 
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n 

1 Pandora was a most beautiful woman on whom the gods bestowed all their gifts. Jupi- 
ter, enraged with Prometheus, the son of Japhet, for having stolen fire from heaven, sent 
Pandora, with a box of supposed treasures, to him, to punish him ; but he refused to receive 
her. Hermes (or Mercury) then led her to Prometheus's "unwiser" brother Epimetheus. 
who received her, and was persuaded by her to open the box she brought as her dowry. It 
contained all the ills which have since afflicted humanity, but //o/>e remained at the bottom. 
It is very probable that this fable originated in the true story of Eve's disobedience, and her 
enticing Adam to share her sin. 

45 ^ 



t 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 105 

Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe, 
And starry pole. Thou also mad'st the night, 
Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day, 
Which we in our appointed work employ'd 
Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help 
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss 
Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place 
For us too large, where thy abundance wants 
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
But thou hast promised from us two a race 
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep. 

This said unanimous, and other rites 
Observing none, but adoration pure 
Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
Handed they went ; and, eased the putting off 
These troublesome disguises which we wear. 
Straight side by side were laid ; nor turn'd, I ween, 
Adam from his fair spouse ; nor Eve the rites 
Mysterious of connubial love refused 
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
Of purity, and place, and innocence. 
Defaming as impure what God declares 
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. 
Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain 
But our destroyer, foe to God and man ? 
Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
Of human offspring, sole propriety 
In paradise of all things common else. 
By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men 
Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee 
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
Relations dear, and all the charities^ 

1 Affections. 



^ -^ 

io6 PARADISE LOST. 

Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 

Far be it, that 1 should write thee sin or blame, 

Or think thee unbefitting hohest place, 

Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 

Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced. 

Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 

Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 

His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 

Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 

Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd. 

Casual fruition ; nor in court amours, 

Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 

Or serenate, which the starved lover sings 

To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 

These, luU'd by nightingales, embracing slept, 

And on their naked limbs the flowery roof 

Shower'd roses, which the morn repair'd. Sleep on, 

Blest pair, and O ! yet happiest if ye seek 

No happier state, and know to know no more. 

Now had night measured with her shadowy cone 
Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault, 
And from their ivory port the Cherubim 
Forth issuing at th' accustom'd hour stood arm'd 
To their night watches in warlike parade, 
When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake, 

UzzieV half these draw off, and coast the south 
With strictest watch ; these other wheel the north ; 
Our circuit meets full west. As flame they part. 
Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. 
From these two strong and subtle spirits he call'd 
That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge. 

Ithuriel and Zephon,^ with wing'd speed 
Search through this garden, leave unsearch'd no nook ; 



1 This angels name signifies the strength of God. 

2 The name of Ithuriel signifies the discovery of God ; of Zephon, a secret, or searcher of 
secrets From Hume. 

d^ — -4" 



^ -. ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 107 

But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, 

Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harm. 

This evening from the sun's decline arrived, 

Who tells of some infernal spirit seen 

Hitherward bent, who could have thought ? escaped 

The bars of hell, on errand bad no doubt : 

Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring. 

So saying, on he led his radfant files, 
Dazzling the moon ; these to the bower direct 
In search of whom they sought: him there they found. 
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve; 
Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
Illusions as he list, phantasms, and dreams ; 
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
Th' animal spirits that from pure blood arise 
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
At least distemper'd, discontented thoughts, 
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires 
Blown up with high conceits ingend'ring pride. 
Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 
Touch'd lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
Of force to its own likeness : up he starts 
Discover'd and surprized. As when a spark 
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 
Fit for the tun, some marazine to store 
Against a rumor'd war, the smutty grain 
With sudden blaze diffused inflames the air : 
So started up in his own shape the fiend. 
Back stepp'd those two fair angels, half amazed 
So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon. 

Which of those rebel spirits adjudged to hell 
Com'st thou, escaped thy prison ? and transformed, 
Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, 

'id -^ 



^ ^ 

io8 PARADISE LOST. 

Here watching at the head of these that sleep? 

Know ye not then, said Satan fill'd with scorn, 
Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate 
For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar ; 
• Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, 
The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, 
Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
Your message, like to end as much in vain ? 

To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn. 
Think not, revolted spirit, thy shape the same 
Or undiminish'd brightness, to be known 
As when thou stood'st in heav'n upright and pure; 
That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
Departed from thee, and thou resemblest now 
Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. 
But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 
This place inviolable, and these from harm. 

So spake the Cherub, and his grave rebuke, 
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 
Invincible : abash'd the devil stood, 
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
Virtue in her shape how lovely, saw, and pined 
His loss ; but chiefly to find here observed 
His lustre visibly impair'd; yet seem'd 
Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, 
Best with the best, the sender not the sent, 
Or all at once; more glory will be won, 
Or less be lost. Thy .car, said Zephon bold, 
Will save us trial what the least can do 
Single against thee wicked, and thence weak. 

The fiend replied not, overcome with rage ; 
But like a proud steed rein'd went haughty on, 
Champing his iron curb : to strive or fly 
He held it vain ; awe from above had quell'd 
His heart, not else dismay'd. Now drew they nigh 

^ 4^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. .^^ 

The western point, where those half-rounding guards 
Just met, and closing stood in squadron join'^d, 
Awaiting next command. To whom their chief 
Gabriel from the front thus call'd aloud. 

O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet 
Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade, 
And with them comes a third of regal port, 
But faded splendor wan ; who by his gait 
And fierce demeanor seems the prince of hell, 
Nor likely to part hence without contest : 
Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours. 

He scarce had ended, when those two approach'd. 
And brief related whom they brought, where found,' 
How busied, in what form and posture couch 'd. 
To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake'. 

Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
To thy transgression, and disturb'd the charge 
Of others, who approve not to transgress 
By thy example, but have power and right 
To question thy bold entrance on this pTace, 
Employ'd, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss? 
To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow. 
Gabriel, thou hadst in heav'n th' esteem of wise, 
And such I held thee : but this question ask'd 
Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain ? 
Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell, 
Though hither doom'd? thou wouldst thyself, no doubt. 
And boldly venture to whatever place 
Farthest from pain, where thou migh'st hope to change 
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
Dole with delight, which in this place I sought : 
To thee no reason, who know'st only good, 
But evil hast not tried : and wilt object 
His will who bound us ? Let Him surer bar 




4 



^ -^ 

no PARADISE LOST. 

His iron gates, if He intends our stay 
In that dark durance : thus much what was ask'd. 
The rest is true ; they found me where they say ; 
But that implies not violence or harm. 

Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved, 
Disdainfully, half smiling, thus replied. 
O loss of one in heav'n to judge of wise, 
Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, 
And now returns him from his prison scaped. 
Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither 
Unlicensed from his bounds in hell prescribed: 
So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
However, and to scape his punishment. 
So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrath. 
Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight 
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to hell. 
Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 
Can equal anger infinite provoked. 
But wherefore thou alone ? wherefore with thee 
Came not all hell broke loose ? is pain to them 
Less pain, less to be fled, or thou than they 
Less hardy to endure ? courageous chief, 
The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleged 
To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. 

To which the fiend thus answer'd, frowning stern. 
Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain 
Insulting angel, well thou know'st I stood 
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, 
And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
But still thy words at random, as before, 
Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
From hard assays and ill successes past 
A faithful leader, not to hazard all 

^fe- ■ & 



<b 



PARADISE LOST. iii 

Through ways of danger by himself untried. 
I therefore, I alone first undertook 
To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
This new created world, whereof in hell 
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
Better abode, and my afflicted Powers 
To settle here on earth, or in mid air ; 
Though for possession put to try once more 
What thou and thy gay legions dare against ; 
Whose easier business were to serve their Lord 
High up in heav'n, with songs to hymn his throne, 
And practised distances to cringe, not fight. 
To whom the warrior angel soon replied. 
To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy. 
Argues no leader, but a liar traced, 
Satan, and couldst thou faithful add ? O name, 
O sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 
Faithful to whom ? to thy rebellious crew ? 
Army of fiends, fit body to fit head : 
Was this your discipline and faith engaged, 
Your military obedience, to dissolve 
Allegiance to th' acknowledged Power supreme ? 
And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilely adored 
Heav'n's awful Monarch ? wherefore but in hope 
To dispossess him, and thyself to reign ? 
But mark what I arreed thee now ; Avaunt ; 
Fly thither whence thou fledst : if from this hour 
Within these hallow'd limits thou appear. 
Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, 
And seal thee so,^ as henceforth not to scorn 
The facile gates of hell too slightly barr'd. 

1 Rev. XX. 3. 



4 



112 PARADISE LOST. 

So threaten'd he : but Satan to no threats 
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repHed. 

Then, when I am thy captive talk of chains. 
Proud hmitary Cherub ; but ere then 
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
From my prevailing arm ; though heaven's King 
Ride on thy wings,^ and thou with thy compeers, 
Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 
In progress through the road of heav'n star-paved. 

While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright 
Turn' fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns 
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
With ported spears, as thick as when a field 
Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends 
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
Sways them ; the careful ploughman doubting stands, 
Lest on the threshing floor his hopeful sheaves 
Prove chaff. On the other side Satan alarm'd, 
Collecting all his might, dilated stood, 
Like Teneriffe or Atlas unremoved : 
His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest 
Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp 
What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds 
Might have ensued, nor only Paradise 
In this commotion, but the starry cope 
Of heav'n perhaps, or all the elements 
At least had gone to wrack, disturb'd and torn 
With violence of this conflict, had not soon 
Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray 
Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales,^ yet seen 



1 Ezek. i. X. and xi. 22. 

2 The constellation Libra. This image of the Deity weighing the fates of the combatants 
is found both in Homer — XXII, "Iliad" — and in Virgil, who represents Jupiter as weighing 
the fates ofTurnus and ^neas. — Addison. "In Homer and Virgil the combatants are 
weighed one against another, but here Satan only is weighed; in one scale the consequence 
of his retreating, in the other of his fighting. And there is this further improvement, that. 



4 



f- 



■e? 



PARADISE LOST. 113 

Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, 
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, 
The pendulous round earth with balanced air 
In counterpoise ; now ponders all events, 
Battles, and realms : in these he put two weights, 
The sequel each of parting and of fight ; 
The latter quick up flew and kick'd the beam : 
Which Gabriel spying thus bespake the fiend. 

Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine : 
Neither our own but given ; what folly then 
To boast what arms can do, since thine no more 
Than heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
To trample thee as mire ? for proof look up 
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign. 
Where thou art weigh'd,^ and shown how light, how weak. 
If thou resist. The fiend look'd up, and knew 
His mounted scale aloft: nor more ; but fled 
Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night. 

as in Homer and Virgil the fates are weighed to satisfy Jupiter himself, it is here done to 
satisfy only the contending parties — for Satan to read his own destiny ! — Newton. 
1 Dan. V. 27. 



£^_ ^ ^ 



^ ■- -^ 

114 PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK V. 

The Argument. 

Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream ; he likes it not, yet 
comforts her: they come forth to their day-labors: their morning hymn at the door of their 
bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to admonish him ol his obedience, 
of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever 
else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to paradise ; his appearance described, 
his coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at the door of his bower ; he goes out to 
meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of paradise got 
together by Eve ; their discourse at table ; Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of 
his state and of his enemy; relates at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came 
to be so, beginning from his first revolt in heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew 
his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him ; 
persuading all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then 
forsakes him. 

Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
When Adam waked, so custom'd for his sleep 
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred, 
And temperate vapors bland, which the only sound 
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan 
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
Of birds on every bough : so much the more 
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, 
As through unquiet rest : he on his side 
Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love 
Hung over her enamor'd, and beheld 
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep. 
Shot forth peculiar graces : then with voice 
Mild, as when Zephyrus on F'lora breathes. 
Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus : Awake, 
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, 
Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field 




Leaning, half raised, uith looks of cordial love, 
Hung over her enamoured. 



PARADISE LOST. 115 

Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
How nature paints her colors, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. 

Such whisp'ring waked her, but with startled eye 
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake. 

O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose. 
My glory, my perfection, glad I see 
Thy face and morn returned ; for I this night, 
Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd, 
If dream'd, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, 
Works of day pass'd, or morrow's next design, 
But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
Knew never till this irksome night : methought 
Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk 
With gentle voice ; I thought it thine : it said. 
Why sleep'st thou Eve ? now is the pleasant time, 
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 
Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song ; now reigns 
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy sets off the face of things ; in vain. 
If none regard : heav'n wakss with all his eyes, 
Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire. 
In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment 
, Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. 
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; 
To find thee I directed then my walk ; 
And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways 
That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seem'd, 
Much fairer to my fancy than by day : 
And as I wond'ring look'd, beside it stood 
One shaped and wing'd like one of those from heav'n 
By us oft seen ; his dewy locks distill'd 

— ^ 



^^ 



<b 



ii6 



PARADISE LOST. 



Ambrosia ; on that tree he also gazed ; 

And O fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharged, 

Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet, 

Nor God, nor man ; is knowledge so despised? 

Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste ? 

Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 

Longer thy offer'd good ; why else set here ? 

This said he paused not, but with vent'rous arm 

He pluck'd, he tasted; me damp horror chill'd 

At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold. 

But he thus overjoy'd : O fruit divine. 

Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropp'd. 

Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 

For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men: 

And why not Gods of men since good,* the more 

Communicated, more abundant grows, 

The author not impair'd, but honor'd more 

Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, 

Partake thou also ; happy though thou art. 

Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be : 

Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods 

Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confined, 

But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes 

Ascend to heav'n, by merit thine, and see 

What life the Gods live there, and such live thou. 

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, 

Even to my mouth, of that same fruit held part 

Which he had pluck'd ; the pleasant savory smell 

So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought, 

Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 

With him I flew, and underneath beheld 

The earth outstretch 'd immense, a prospect wide 

And various : wond'ring at my flight and change 

To this high exaltation, suddenly 

My guide was gone, and I methought, sunk down, 

And fell asleep : but O how glad I waked 



^ 



■e 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 117 

To find this but a dream ! Thus Eve her night 
Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad. 

Best image of myself and dearer half, 
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
Affects me equally ; nor can I like 
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear : 
Yet evil whence ? in thee can harbor none, 
Created pure. But know that in the soul 
Are many lesser faculties that serve 
Reason as chief: among these Fancy next 
Her office holds ; of all external things, 
Which the five watchful senses represent 
She forms imaginations, aery shapes, 
Which Reason joining, or disjoining, frames 
All what we affirm, or what deny, and call 
Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires 
Into her private cell when nature rests. 
Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes 
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes, 
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, 
111 matching words and deeds long past or late. 
Some such resemblances methinks I find 
Of our last evening's talk in this thy dream, 
But with addition strange ; yet be not sad : 
Evil into the mind of God or man 
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
No spot or blame behind; which gives me hope 
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, 
Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks 
That wont to be more cheerful and serene 
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world ; 
And let us to our fresh employments rise, 
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flow'rs, 
That open now their choicest bosom'd smells, 
Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store. 

^ ^ ^ 



^ ^ • 

ii8 PARADISE LOST. 

So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd ; 
But silently a gentle tear let fall 
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair : 
Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse. 
And pious awe that fear'd to have offended. 

So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste. 
But first, from under shady arborous roof 
Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
Of dayspring and the sun, who, scarce uprisen 
With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean brim 
Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
Discovering in wide landscape all the east 
Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, 
Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began 
Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
In various style ; for neither various style 
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung 
Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence 
Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, 
Mere tuneable than needed lute or harp 
To add more sweetness : and they thus began. 

These are thy glorious works. Parent of good. 
Almighty, thine this universal frame, 
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! 
Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, 
To us invisible, or dimly seen 
In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. 
Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light. 
Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs 
And choral symphonies, day without night, 
Circle his throne rejoicing, ye in heaven, 
On earth join all ye creatures to extol 

^ ^ 



PARADISE LOST. 119 

Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 

Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, 

If better thou belong not to the dawn, 

Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn 

With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere 

While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 

Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul. 

Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise 

In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, 

And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st 

Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, 

With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies, 

And ye five other wand'ring fires that move 

In mystic dance not without song,^ resound 

His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. 

Air, and ye elements the eldest birth 

Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run 

Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix 

And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change 

Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 

Ye mists and exhalations that now rise 

From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, 

Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold. 

In honor to the world's great author rise, 

Whether to deck with clouds the uncolor'd sky 

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers. 

Rising or falling still advance his praise. 

His praise, ye winds that from four quarters blow, 

Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines, 

With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 

Fountains and ye that warble, as ye flow. 

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise : 

Join voices, all ye living souls, ye birds, 

That singing up to heaven gate ascend, 

I Alluding to the Pythagorean idea of the music of the spheres. 



120 PARADISE LOST. 

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise ; 

Ye that in waters ghde, and ye that walk 

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ;^ 

Witness if I be silent, morn or even. 

To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, 

Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 

Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still 

To give us only good ; and if the night 

Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd, 

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. 

So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts 
Firm peace recover'd soon and wonted calm, 
On to their morning's rural work they haste. 
Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row 
Of fruit-trees over woody reach'd too far 
Their pamper'd^ boughs, and needed hands to check 
Fruitless embraces : or they led the vine 
To wed her elm ; she spoused about him twines 
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
Her dower, th' adopted clusters, to adorn 
His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld 
With pity heav'n's high King, and to Him called 
Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign'd 
To travel with Tobias, and secured 
His marriage with the seventimes-wedded maid. 

Raphael, said he, thou hear'st what stir on earth 
Satan, from hell scap'd through the darksome gulf, 
Hath raised in paradise, and how disturb'd 
This night the human pair, how he designs 
In them at once to ruin all mankind : 
Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend 
Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade 
Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired, 
To respite his day-labor with repast, 

1 See Psalm cxlviii. ^ Unrestrained. 

d^ ^ 



f ^ -6. 

PARADISE LOST. 121 

Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on, 

As may advise him of his happy state, 

Happiness in his power left free to will, 

Left to his own free will, his will though free, 

Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 

He swerve not too secure ; tell him withal 

His danger, and from whom ; what enemy 

Late fall'n himself from heaven, is plotting now 

The fall of others from like state of bliss; 

By violence? no; for that shall be withstood, 

But by deceit and lies ; this let him know, 

Lest wilfully, transgressing he pretend 
Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd. 

So spake th' eternal Father, and fulfill'd 
All justice : nor delay'd the winged saint 
After his charge received; but from among 
Thousand celestial ardors, where he stood 
Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing light 
Flew through the midst of heav'n; th' angelic choirs, 
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
Through all the empyreal road; till at the gate 
Of heav'n arrived, the gate itself opcn'd wide 
On golden hinges turning, as by work 
Divine the sov'reign Architect had framed. 
From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight. 
Star interposed, however small he sees, 
Not unconform to other shining Hobes. 
Earth and the garden of God, with cedars crovvn'd 
Above all hills : as when by night the glass 
Of Galileo, less assured, observes 
Imagined lands and regions in the moon : 
Or pilot from amidst the Cycladcs^ 
Delos, or Samos, first appearing kens 
A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 



^Islands of the Archipelago. 

"^ — — ^ 



122 PARADISE LOST. 

He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 

Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing 

Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 

Winnows the buxom air ; till within soar 

Of tow'ring eagles, to all the fowls he seems 

A phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 

When to inshrine his reliques in the sun's 

Ikight temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.' 

At once on th' eastern cliff of paradise 

He lights, and to his proper shape returns 

A seraph wing'd : six wings he wore, to shade 

His lineaments divine; the pair that clad 

Each shoulder broad came mantling o'er his breast 

With regal ornament ; the middle pair 

Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round 

Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold 

And colors dipp'd in heav'n ; the third his feet 

Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail 

Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia's son^ he stood, 

And shook his plumes, that heav'nly fragrance fiU'd 

The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 

Of angels under watch ; and to his state, 

And to his message high, in honor rise ; 

For on some message high they guess'd him bound. 

Their glittering tents he pass'd and now is come 

Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 

And flow'ring odors, cassia, nard, and balm; 

A wilderness of sweets; for nature here 

Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 

Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet. 



1 The phcenix was a fabled bird, of which one only was said to exist at a time. It was 
exquisitely beautiful ; and lived many hundred years. At the end of its life it made a pile 
of aromatic woods, which it kindled, and, fanning the flames with its wings, perished in the 
blaze. From its ashes sprang another phoenix. The phoenix made his funeral pyre in the 
sun's temple at Thebe;. 

'i "The feathered Mercury."— SHAKESPEARE. Mercury had wings on his feet as well as 
his shoulders 



4 



^- -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 123 

Wild above rule or art ; enormous bliss. 

Him through the spicy forest onward come 

Adam discern'd, as in the door he sat 

Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun 

Sl-ot down direct his fervid rays, to warm 

Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs ; 

And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 

For dinner savory fruits, of taste to please 

True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 

Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, 

Berry, or grape, to whom thus Adam call'd. 

Haste hither, Eve, and worth thy sight behold 
Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
Comes this way moving, seems another morn 
Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from heav'n 
To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe 
This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 
Abundance, fit to honor and receive 
Our heavenly stranger ; well we may afford 
Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow 
From large bestow'd, where nature multiplies 
Her fertile growth, and by disburd'ning grows 
More fruitful ; which instructs us not to spare. 

To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallow'd mould, 
Of God inspired, small store will serve, where store 
All seasons ripe for use hangs on the stalk ; 
Save what by frugal storing firmness gains 
To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes. 
But I will haste, and from each bough and brake. 
Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
To entertain our angel guest, as he 
Beholding shall confess, that here on earth 
God hath dispensed his bounties as in heav'n. 

So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 



^ -^ 

1-4 PARADISE LOST. 

What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
What order, so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring 
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change ; 
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
Whatever earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
In India east or west, or middle shore 
In Pontus, or the Punic coast,^ or where 
Alcinous reign'd,^ fruit of all kinds, in coat, 
Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, 
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
Heaps with unsparing hand : for drink the grape 
She crushes, inoffensive must,^ and meaths^ 
From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd 
She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold 
Wants her fit vessels pure ; then strews the ground 
With rose and odors from the shrub unfumed. 
Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet 
His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train 
Accompanied than with his own complete 
Perfections; in himself was all his state. 
More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
On princes, when their rich retinue long 
Of horses led and grooms besmear'd with gold 
Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
Nearer his presence Adam though not awed, 
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, 
As to a superior nature, bowing low, 
Thus said. Native of heav'n, for other place 
None can than heav'n such glorious shape contain. 
Since by descending from the thrones above. 
Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while 
To want, and honor these, vouchsafe with us 



1 Carthage. •'' Grape juice, unfermented. 

2 Phoeacia, an island in the Ionian Sea. * Mead. 



PARADISE LOST. 125 

Two only, who yet by sov'reign gift possess 
This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower 
To rest, and what the garden choicest bears 
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
Be over, and the sun more cool decline. 

Whom thus the angelic Virtue answer'd mild. 
Adam, I therefore came, nor art thou such 
Created, or such place hast here to dwell. 
As may not oft invite, though spirits of heav'n, 
To visit thee : lead on then where thy bower 
O'ershades : for these mid-hours, till ev'ning rise, 
I have at will. So to the sylvan lodge 
They came, thai: .like Pomona's arbor smiled, 
With flow'rets deck'd and fragrant smells : but Eve 
Undeck'd, save with herself, more lovely fair 
Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd 
Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove,^ 
Stood to entertain her guest from heav'n ; no veil 
She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm 
Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel Hail 
Bestow'd, the holy salutation used 
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve. 

Hail, mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb 
Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons. 
Than with these various fruits the trees of God 
Have heap'd this table. Raised of grassy turf 
Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
And on her ample square from side to side 
All autumn piled, though spring and autumn here 
Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they hold, 
No fear lest dinner cool, when thus began 
Our author. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste 
These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 

1 Alluding to the judgment of Paris, when Juno, Minerva, and Venus contended for the 
apple inscribed, "To the fairest." 

0^ ^ 



a- 



^ 



126 PARADISE LOST. 

i^U perfect good unmeasured out descends, 
To us for food and For delight hath caused 
The earth to yield ; unsavory food, perhaps, 
To spiritual natures : only this I know, 
That one celestial Father gives to all. 

To whom the angel. Therefore what He gives. 
Whose praise be ever sung, to man in part 
Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found 
No ingra'ieful food : and food alike those pure 
Intelligential substances require, 
As doth your rational ; and both contain 
Within them every lower faculty 
Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 
Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate. 
And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
For know, whatever was created needs 
To be sustain'd and fed ; of elements 
The grosser feeds the purer ; earth the sea ; 
Earth and the sea feed air ; the air those fires 
Ethereal ; and as lowest first the moon ; 
Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged 
Vapors not yet into her substance turn'd. 
Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
The sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
From all his alimental recompence 
In humid exhalations, and at even 
Sups with the ocean. Though in heav'n the trees ^ 
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
Yield nectar ; tho' from off the boughs each morn 
We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
Cover'd wi:h pearly grain f yet God hath here 
Varied his bounty so with new delights. 



1 Psalm Ixxviii. 25 ; cv. 40. 

2 "The bread of Heaven," i.e. manna. 



Rev. xxii. 2. Matt. xxvi. 29. 



^ 



-^ 



^ — ^ ===^ 

PARADISE LOST. ^27 

As may compare with heaven ; and to taste 

Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat, 

And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 

The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss 

Of theologians, but with keen dispatch 

Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 

To transubstantiate : what redounds, transpires 

Through spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire 

Of sooty coal the empyric alchymist 

Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 

Metals of drossest ore to perfect gold 

As from the mine. Meanwhile at table Eve 

Minister'd naked, and their flowmg cups 

With pleasant liquors crown'd. O innocence 
JDeserving paradise ! if ever, then. 
Then had the sons of God excuse to have been 
Enamor'd at that sight ; but in those hearts 
Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy, 
Was understood, the injured lover's hell. 

Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed. 
Not burden'd nature, sudden mind arose 
In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass. 
Given him by this great conference, to know 
Of things above his world, and of their being 
Who dwell in heav'n, whose excellence he saw 
Transcend his own so far ; whose radiant forms, 
Divine effulgence, whose high power so far 
Exceeded human ; and his wary speech 
Thus to th' empyreal minister he framed. 
Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
Thy favor, in this honor done to man, 
Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste. 
Food not of angels, yet accepted so, 
As that more willingly thou could'st not seem 
At heav'n's high feast to have fed : yet what compare? 

==zz= ^ 



s- 



^ 



128 FARAD/SB LOST. 

To whom the winged Hierarch replied. 
O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
All things proceed, and up to him return, 
If not depraved from good, created all 
Such to perfection, one first matter all, 
Indued with various forms, various degrees 
Of substance, and, in things that live, of life: 
But more refined, more spirituous, and pure, 
As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending, 
Each in their several active spheres assign'd. 
Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 
Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root 
Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 
More aery, last the bright consummate flow'r 
Spirits odorous breathes; flowers and their fruit, 
Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed. 
To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 
To intellectual, give both life and sense. 
Fancy and understanding, whence the soul 
Reason receives, and reason is her being, 
Discursive or intuitive ; discourse 
Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours. 
Differing but in degree, of kind the same. 
Wonder not then, what God for you saw good 
If I refuse not, but convert, as you. 
To proper substance : time may come, when men 
With angels may participate, and find 
No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare : 
And from these corporal nutriments perhaps 
Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, 
Improved by tract of time, and wing'd ascend 
Ethereal, as we, or may at choice 
Here or in heav'nly paradises dwell ; 
If ye be found obedient, and retain 
Unalterably firm His love entire, 
Whose progjny you are. Meanwhile enjoy 

c^ ^ 




To -whom the winged Hierarch replied : 
Adam, one Almighty is. 



Page 128. 



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PARADISE LOST. 

Your fill what happiness this happy state 
Can comprehend, incapable of more. 

To whom the patriarch of mankind replied. 
O favorable spirit, propitious guest, 
Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
From centre to circumference, whereon 
In contemplation of created things 
By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 
What meant that caution join'd, If ye be found 
Obedient ? Can we want obedience then 
To him, or possibly his love desert, 
Who form'd us from the dust, and placed us here 
Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
Human desires can seek or apprehend ? 

To whom the angel. Son of heav'n and earth 
Attend : that thou art happy, owe to God ; 
That thou continu'st such, owe to thyself, 
That is, to thy obedience ; therein stand. 
This was that caution given thee ; be advised. 
God made thee perfect, not immutable : 
And good He made thee, but to persevere 
He left it in Lhy power; ordain'd thy will 
By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
Inextricable or strict necessity : 
Our voluntary service he requires, 
Not our necessitated, such with him 
Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
Can hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
Willing or no, who will but what they must 
By destiny, and can no other choose ? 
Myself and all th' angelic host, that stand 
In sight of God enthroned, our happy state 
Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; 
On other surety none ; freely we serve, 
Because we freely love, as in our will 
9 



129 



^ 



4 



a- • 

130 PARADISE LOST 

To love or not ; in this we stand or fall. 
And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n, 
And so from heaven to deepest hell : O fall 
From what high state of bliss into what woe ! 

To whom our great progenitor. Thy words 
Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 
Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
Cherubic songs by night from neighboring hills 
Aereal music send : nor knew I not 
To be both will and deed created free ; 
Yet that we never shall forget to love 
Our Maker, and obey Him whose command 
Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
Assured me, and still assure : though what thou tell'st 
Hath past in heav'n, some doubt within me move, 
But more desire to hear, if thou consent, 
The full relation, which must needs be strange, 
Worthy of sacred silence to be heard ; 
And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun 
Hath finish'd half his journey, and scarce begins 
His other half in the great zone of heav'n. 

Thus Adam made request, and Raphael, 
After short pause, assenting thus began. 

High matter thou enjoin'st me, O prime of men, 
Sad task and hard ; for how shall I relate 
To human sense th' invisible exploits 
Of warring spirits ? how without remorse 
The ruin of so many, glorious once 
And perfect while they stood ? how last unfold 
The secrets of another world, perhaps 
Not lawful to reveal ? yet for thy good. 
This is dispensed, and what surmounts the reach 
Of human sense, I shall delineate so. 
By lik'ning spiritual to corporal forms, 
As may express them best : though what if earth 
Be but the shadow of heav'n ; and things therein 



f : ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 131 

Each to other like, more than on earth is thought ? 

As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild 
Reign'd where these heav'ns now roll, where earth now rests 
Upon her centre poised, when on a day, 
For time, though in eternity, applic-d 
To motion, measures all things durable 
By present, past, and future ; on such day 
As heav'n's great year^ brings forth, th' empyreal host ' 
Of angels, by imperial summons call'd, 
Innumerable before th' Almighty's throne 
Forthwith from all the ends of heav'n appear'd : 
Under their hierarchs in orders bright 
Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, 
Standards and gonfalons 'twixt van and rear 
Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 
Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees : 
Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed 
Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
Of circuit inexpressible they stood 
Orb within orb, the Father infinite, 
By whom in bliss imbosom'd sat the Son, 
Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top 
Brightness had made invisible, thus spake. 

Hear all ye Angels, progeny of light. 
Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers. 
Hear my decree,^ which unrevoked shall stand. 
This day I have begot whom I declare 
My only Son, and on this holy hill 
Him have anointed, whom ye now behold 
At my right hand ; your head I him appoint 
And by my Self have sworn to him shall bow 



1 Plato's great year was probably in Milton's mind. It was a revolution of all the spheres. 
'Everything returns to where it set out when their motion first began." — Richardson. 

2 Job i. 6. Dan. vii. lo. ^ See Psalm ii. Heb. i. 5. 



-^ 



^ 



^ 



132 PARADISE LOST. 

All knees in heav'n, and shall confess him Lord. 
Under his great vice-gerent reign abide 
United, as one individual soul, 
For ever happy : him who disobeys 
Me disobeys, breaks union, and, that day 
Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls 
Into utter darkness, deep ingulf 'd, his place 
Ordain'd without redemption, without end. 

So spake th' Omnipotent, and with his words 
All seemed well pleased ; all seem'd, but were not all. 
That day, as other solemn days, they spent 
In song and dance about the sacred hill, 
Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 
Of planets and of fix'd in all her wheels 
Resembles nearest, mazes intricate. 
Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular. 
Then most, when most irregular they seem; 
And in their motions harmony divine 
So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear 
Listens delighted. Ev'ning now approach'd, 
For we have also our ev'ning and our morn, 
We ours for change delectable, not need, 
Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 
Desirous, all in circles as they stood, 
Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 
With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows, 
In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold ; 
Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of heav'n. 
On flow'rs reposed and with fresh flowerets crown'd, 
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 
Quaff immortality and joy, secure 
Of surfeit where full measure only bounds 
Excess, before th' all-bounteous King, who showcr'd 
With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhaled 
From that high mount of God, whence light and shade 



<&■ 



^ 



PAR AD J SB LOST. 133 

Spring both, the face of brightest heav'n had changed 

To grateful twih'ght, for night comes not there 

In darker veil, and roseate dews disposed 

All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest,^ 

Wide over all the plain, and wider far 

Than all this globous earth in plain outspread, 

Such are the courts of God, th' angelic throng 

Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend 

By living streams among the trees of life,^ 

Pavilions numberless and sudden rear'd, 

Celestial tabernacles, where they slept 

Fann'd with cool winds, save those who in their course 

Melodious hymns about the sov'reign throne 

Alternate all night long. But not so waked 

Satan, so call him now, his former name 

Is heard no more in heav'n ; he of the first 

If not the first arch-angel, great in power, 

In favor and pre-eminence, yet fraught 

With envy against the Son of God, that day 

Honor'd by his great Father, and proclaim'd 

Messiah King anointed, could not bear 

Thro' pride that sight, and thought himself impair'd. 

Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain. 

Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour. 

Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 

With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 

Unworshipp'd, unobey'd, the throne supreme, 

Contemptuous, and his next subordinate 

Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake. 

Sleep'st thou, companion dear, what sleep can close 
Thy eyelids ? and remember'st what decree 
Of yesterday so late hath past the lips 
Of heav'n's Almighty ? Thou to me thy thoughts 
Wast wont, I mine to thee was tvont to impart : 



1 Psalm cxxi. 4: "He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep," ^ Rev. xxii. 



4^- Q, 

134 PARADISE LOST. 

Both waking we were one ; how then can now 

Thy sleep dissent? new laws thou see'st imposed; 

New laws from Him who reigns new minds may raise 

In us who serve, new counsels, to debate 

What doubtful may ensue ; more in this place 

To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 

Of all those myriads which we lead, the chief: 

Tell them, that by command, ere yet dim night 

Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste. 

And all who under me their banners wave, 

Homeward with flying march, where we possess 

The quarters of the north ,^ there to prepare 

Fit entertainment to receive our King 

The great Messiah, and his new commands ; 

Who speedily through all the hierarchies 

Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws. 

So spake the false arch-angel, and infused 
Bad influence into th' unwary breast 
Of his associate ; he together calls. 
Or several one by one, the regent Powers, 
Under him regent, tells, as he was taught. 
That the Most High commanding, now ere night, 
Now ere dim night had disincumber'd heav'n, 
The great hierarchial standard was to move; 
Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
Or taint integrity ; but all obey'd 
The wonted signal, and superior voice 
Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 

1 "How art thou fallen, O Lucifer, son of the morning, . . . For thou hast said in 
thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God ; I will 
sit also upon the mount of the congregation in the sides of the north." — Isaiah xiv. part of 
12 and 13 vs. In Shakespeare, ist Part of Henry F/., Act V. Sc. 3, Joan of .'\rc, addressing 
the Sends, calls them, — • ' substitutes 

•'Unto the lordly monarch of the north." 
i.e., the devil. This was probably in acccordance with popular superstition, which actually 
gave an ill name to the north side of even a churchyard. 



^ ■ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 135 

His name, and high was his degree in heav'n ; 
His count'nance, as the morning star that guides 
The starry flock, allured them, and with hes 
Drew after him the third part of heav'n's host/ 

Meanwhile th' eternal Eye, whose sight discerns 
Abstrusest thoughts, from forth His holy mount, 
And from within the golden lamps ^ that burn 
Nightly before Him, saw without their light 
Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spread 
Among the sons of morn,'^ what multitudes 
Where banded to oppose His high decree ; 
And smiling to His only Son thus said. 

Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
In full resplendence, heir of all my might, 
Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
Of deity or empire ; such a foe 
Is rising, who intends to erect his throne 
Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north ; 
Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
In battle what our power is, or our right. 
Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
With speed what force is left, and all employ 
In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill. 

To whom the Son with calm aspect and clear 
Light'ning divine, ineffable, serene. 
Made answer. Mighty Father, Thou Thy foes 
Justly hast in derision, and secure 
Laugh'st at their vain designs and tumults vain,^ 
Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
Illustrates, when they see all regal power 
Giv'n me to quell their pride, and in event 



1 Rev. xii. 3, 4. 2 Rgy. iv. 5. 3 Isaiah xiv. 12. ■i Psalm ii. 4. 



^ 



^ : ^ 

^^^6 PARADISE LOST. 

Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 
Thy rebels, or be found the worst in heav'n. 

So spake the Son : but Satan with his powers 
Far was advanced on winged speed, an host 
Innumerable as the stars of night, 
Or stars of morning, dewdrops, which the sun 
Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
Regions they pass'd, the mighty regencies 
Of Seraphim, and Potentates, and Thrones 
In their triple degrees, regions to which 
All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
Than what this garden is to all the earth, 
And all the sea, from one entire globose 
Stretch'd into longitude ; which having pass'd, 
At length into the limits of the north 
They came, and Satan to his royal seat 
High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
Raised on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs 
From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold, 
The palace of great Lucifer ; so call 
That structure in the dialect of men 
Interpreted, which not long after he. 
Affecting all equality with God, 
In imitation of that mount^ whereon 
Messiah was declared in sight of heav'n, 
The mountain of the congregation call'd ; 
For thither he assembled all his train, 
Pretending so commanded to consult 
About the great reception of their king, 
Thither to come, and with calumnious art 
Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears. 

Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
If these magnific titles yet remain 
Not merely titular, since by decree 

1 Psalm ii. 6. 

C^ ^ 



^ : -^ 

PARADISE LOST, 137 

Another now hath to himself ingross'd 

All power, and us eclipsed under the name 

Of king anointed, for whom all this haste 

Of midnight march and hurried meeting here, 

This only to consult how we may best 

With what may be devised of honors new 

Receive him, coming to receive from us 

Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, 

Too much to one, but double how endured, 

To one and to his image now proclaim'd ? 

But what if better counsels might erect 

Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke ? 

Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 

The supple knee ? ye will not, if I trust 

To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 

Natives and sons of heav'n, possest before 

By none, and if not equal all, yet free, 

Equally free ; for orders and degrees 

Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 

Who can in reason then or right assume 

Monarchy over such as live by right 

His equals, if in power and splendor less, 

In freedom equal ? or can introduce 

Law and edict on us, who without law 

P>r not ? much less for this to be our Lord, 

And look for adoration, to th' abuse 

Of those imperial titles, which assert 

Our being ordain'd to govern, not to serve ? 

Thus far his bold discourse without control 
Had audience, when among the seraphim 
Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 
The Deity, and divine commands obey'd. 
Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe 
The current of his fury thus opposed. 

O argument blasphemous, false and proud, 
Words which no ear ever to hear in heav'n 



a- : ^ ^ 

138 PARADISE LOST. 

Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate, 

In place thyself so high above thy peers. 

Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn 

The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 

That to His only Son, by right endued 

With regal sceptre, every soul in heav'n 

Shall bend the knee,' and in that honor due 

Confess him rightful king? unjust thou say'st. 

Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 

And equal over equals to let reign, 

One over all with unsucceeded power. 

Shalt thou give law to God?^ shalt thou dispute 

With him the points of liberty, who made 

Thee what thou art, and form'd the pow'rs of heav'n 

Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being ? 

Yet by experience taught we know how good. 

And of our good, and of our dignity 

How provident He is ; how far from thought 

To make us less, bent rather to exalt 

Our happy state under one head more near 

United. But to grant it thee unjust, 

That equal over equals monarch reign : 

Thyself though great and glorious dost thou count, 

Or all angelic nature join'd in one. 

Equal to him begotten Son, by whom 

As by His word the mighty Father made 

All things, ev'n thee, and all the spirits of heav'n 

By him created in their bright degrees,* 

Crown'd them with glory, and to their glory named 

Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 

Essential powers ; nor by his reign obscured, 

But more illustrious made, since he the head 

One of our number thus reduced becomes ; 

His laws our laws, all honor to him done 

' Philip, ii. 9> 10, 11. ^ Rom. ix. 20. ^ Colos. i. 15, 16, 17. 



f~ ^^ 



PARADISE LOST. 



139 



Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage. 
And tempt not these ; but hasten to appease 
Th' incensed Father, and th' incensed Son/ 
While pardon may be found in time besought. 

So spake the fervent angel ; but his zeal 
None seconded, as out of season judged 
Or singular and rash; whereat rejoiced 
The Apostate, and more haughty thus replied. 

That we were form'd then say'st thou ? and the work 
Of secondary hands by task transferr'd 
From Father to his Son ? strange point and new ! 
Doctrine which we would know whence learn'd : who saw 
When this creation was ? remember'st thou 
Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being ? 
We know no time when we were not as now ; 
Know none before us, self-begot, self-raised 
By our own quick'ning power, when fatal course 
Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
Of this our native heav'n, ethereal sons. 
Our puissance is our own, our own right hand 
Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 
Who is our equal : then thou shalt behold 
Whether by supplication we intend 
Address, and to begird th' Almighty throne 
Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
These tidings carry to th' anointed king ; 
And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight. 

He said, and, as the sound of waters deep, 
Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause 
Through the infinite host ; nor less for that 
The flaming seraph fearless, though alone 
Encompass'd round with foes, thus answer'd bold. 

O alienate from God, O spirit accurst, 
Forsaken of all good, I see thy fall 

1 Psalm ii. 



^ 



4 



^ -0? 

140 PARADISE LOST. 

Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 
Both of thy crime and punishment. Henceforth 
No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
Of God's Messiah ; those indulgent laws 
Will not be now vouchsafed, other decrees 
Against thee are gone forth without recall : 
That golden sceptre which thou didst reject 
Is now an iron rod, to bruise and break 
Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise ; 
Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath 
Impendent raging into sudden flame 
Distinguish not ; for soon expect to feel 
His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 
Then who created thee lamenting learn, 
When who can uacreate thee thou shalt know. 

So spake the seraph Abdiel faithful found, 
Among the faithless faithful only he : 
Among innumerable false unmoved, 
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified; 
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal. 
Nor number, nor example with him wrought 
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind 
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd, 
Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustain'd 
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught ; 
And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd 
On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd. 



^ & 



PARADISE LOST. 141 



BOOK VI. 

The Argument. 

Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent forth to battle against 
Satan and his angels. The first fight described : Satan and his powers retire under night : 
he calls a council, invents devilish engines, which in the second day's fight put Michael and 
his angels to some disorder; but they at length pulling up mcuntains overwhelm both the 
force and machines of Satan ; yet the tumult not so ending, God on the tliird day sends 
Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserved the glory of that victory. He in the power of . 
his Father coming to the place, and causing all his legions to stand still on either side, with 
his chariot and thunder driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues ihem unable to resist 
towards the wall of heaven ; which opening, they leap down with horror and confusion into 
the place of punishment prepared for them in the deep. Messiah return^ with triumph to 
his Father. 

All night the dreadless angel unpursued 

Through heav'n's wide champaign held his way, till morn, 

Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand 

Unbarr'd the gates of light. There is a cave 

Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, 

Where light and darkness in perpetual round 

Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through heav'n 

Grateful vicissitude, like day and night : 

Light issues forth, and at the other door 

Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour 

To veil the heav'n, though darkness there might well 

Seem twilight here ; and now went forth the morn 

Such as in highest heav'n, array'd in gold 

Empyreal, from before her vanish'd night, 

Shot through with orient beams : when all the plain 

Cover'd with thick embattled squadrons bright, 

Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, 

Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view. 

War he perceived, war in procinct, and found 

Already known what he for news had thought 

To have reported : gladly then he mix'd 

Among those friendly powers, who him received 

^ ^ 



^^- ^ -<b 

142 PARADISE LOST. 

With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
That of so many myriads fall'n yet one 
Return'd not lost. On to the sacred hill 
They led him high applauded, and present 
Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice 
From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard. 

Servant of God, well done, v/ell hast thou fought 
The better fight, who single hast maintain'd 
Against revolted multitudes the cause 
Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; 
And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
Than violence : for this was all thy care, 
To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
Judged thee perverse. The easier conquest now 
Remains thee, aided by this host of friends. 
Back on thy foes more glorious to return 
Than scorn'd thou didst depart, and to subdue 
By force, who reason for their law refuse, 
Right reason for their law, and for their king 
Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
Go, Michael of celestial armies prince, 
And thou, in military prowess next, 
Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
Invincible, lead forth my armed Saints 
By thousands and by millions ranged for fight ; 
Equal in number to that godless crew 
Rebellious ; them with fire and hostile arms 
Fearless assault, and to the brow of heav'n 
Pursuing drive them out from God and bliss, 
Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
His fiery chaos to receive their fall. 

So spake the sovereign voice, and clouds began 
To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
In dusky wreaths reluctant flames, the sign 

^ ■ -4 



s- 



PARADISE LOST. 143 

Of wrath awaked : nor with less dread the loud 

Ethereal trumpet from on high gan blow : 

At which command the powers militant 

That stood for heav'n, in mighty quadrate join'd 

Of union irresistible, moved on 

In silence their bright legions, to the sound 

Of instrumental harmony, that breathed 

Heroic ardor to advent'rous deeds, 

Under their godlike leaders, in the cause 

Of God and his Messiah. On they move 

Indissolubly firm : nor obvious hill, 

Nor straight'ning vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides 

Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground 

Their march was, and the passive air upbore 

Their nimble tread ; as when the total kind 

Of birds in orderly array on wing 

Came summon'd over Eden to receive 

Their names of thee : so over many a tract 

Of heav'n they march'd, and many a province wide 

Tenfold the length of this terrene. At last 

Far in the horizon to the north appear'd 

From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretch'd 

In battailous aspect, and nearer view 

Bristled with upright beams innumerable 

Of rigid spears, and helmets throng'd, and shields 

Various, with boastful argument portray'd/ 

The banded powers of Satan hasting on 

With furious expedition ; for they ween'd 

That self-same day, by fight or by surprize, 

To win the mount of God, and on his throne 

To set the envier of his state, the proud 

Aspirer ; but their thoughts proved fond and vain 

In the mid way. Though strange to us it seem'd 

At first, that angel should with angel war, 



s -^ 

144 PARADISE LOST. 

And in fierce hosting' meet, who wont to meet 
So oft in festivals of joy and love 
Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, 
Hymning th' eternal Father ; but the shout 
Of battle now began,'^ and rushing sound 
Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
High in the midst exalted as a God 
Th' apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 
IdoP of Majesty divine, enclosed 
With flaming Cherubim and golden shields : 
Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
'Twixt host and host but narrow space was left, 
A dreadful interval, and front to front 
Presented stood in terrible array 
Of hideous length : before the cloudy van, 
On the rough edge of battle ere it join'd, 
Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, 
Came tow'ring, arm'd in adamant and gold : 
Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 
Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
And thus his own undaunted heart explores. 

O heav'n ! that such resemblance of the Highest 
Should yet remain, where faith and realty * 
Remain not; wherefore should not strength and might 
There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 
Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable ? 
His puissance, trusting in th' Almighty's aid. 
I mean to try, whose reason I have tried 
Unsound and false ; nor is it aught but just, 
That he, who in debate of truth hath won, 
Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 



1 Mustering o{ hosts or armies. 

2 "There was war in heaven, Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the 
dragon fought and his angels and prevailed not, " &c. See Rev. xii. 7, 8, 9. 

'* For Counterfeit — false deity. 
* Reality. 

4) ' -^ 



^ '■ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 145 

Victor: though brutish that contest and foul, 
When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 
Most reason is that reason overcome. 

So pondering, and, from his armed peers 
Forth stepping opposite, halfway he met 
His daring foe, at this prevention more 
Incensed, and thus securely him defied. 

Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reach'd 
The highth of thy aspiring unopposed, 
The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
Abandon'd at the terror of thy power 
Or potent tongue : fool, not to think how vain 
Against th' Omnipotent to rise in arms ; 
Who out of smallest things could without end 
Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
Thy folly ; or, with solitary hand 
Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow 
Unaided could have finish'd thee, and whelm'd 
Thy legions under darkness : but thou seest 
All are not of thy train ; there be, who faith 
Prefer and piety to God ; though then 
To thee not visible, when I alone 
Seem'd in thy world erroneous to dissent 
From all : my sect thou seest ; now learn too late 
How few sometimes may know, when thousands ern 

Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, 

Thus answer'd. Ill for thee, but in wish'd hour 

Of my revenge, first sought for thou return'st 

FVom flight, seditious angel, to receive 

Thy merited reward, the first assay 

Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue 

Inspired with contradiction durst oppose 

A third part of the Gods, in synod met 

Their deities to assert, who while they feel 

Vigor divine within them, can allow 

Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'st 
10 

^— ^ 



146 PARADISE LOST. 

Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 

From me some plume, that thy success may show 

Destruction to the rest : this pause between, 

Unanswer'd lest thou boast, to let thee know, 

At first I thought that liberty and heav'n 

To heav'nly souls had been all one ; but now 

I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 

Minist'ring spirits, train'd up in feast and song; 

Such hast thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of heav'n, 

Servility with freedom to contend, 

As both their deeds compared this day shall prove. 

To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied. 
Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end wilt find 
Of erring, from the path of truth remote : 
Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
Of servitude to serve whom God ordains. 
Or Nature ; God and Nature bid the same. 
When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
Them whom he governs. This is servitude, 
To serve th' unwise, or him whc^hath rebel I'd 
Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee. 
Thyself not free, but to thyself enthrall'd ; 
Yet lewdly dar'st our minist'ring upbraid. 
Reign thou in hell thy kingdom, let me serve 
In heav'n God ever bless'd, and His divine 
Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd ; 
Yet chains in hell, not realms expect : meanwhile 
From me return'd, as erst thou saidst, from flight. 
This greeting on thy impious crest receive. 

So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, 
Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 
On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight. 
Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield 
Such ruin intercept : ten paces huge 
He back recoil'd; the tenth on bended knee 
His massy spear upstay'd ; as if on earth 




This greeting on thy {i>ipu'u nest receive. 



Page 146. 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 147 

Winds under ground or waters, forcing way 

Side-long had push'd a mountain from his seat, 

Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 

The rebel thrones, but greater rage to see 

Thus foil'd their mightiest; ours joy fill'd, and shout, 

Presage of victory, and fierce desire 

Of battle : whereat Michael bid sound 

The arch-angel trumpet ; through the v^ast of heav'n 

It sounded, and the faithful armies runsr 

Hosanna to the Highest : nor stood at gaze 

The adverse legions, nor less hideous join'd 

The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, 

And clamor, such as heard in heaven till now 

Was never; arms en armour clashing bray'd 

Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 

Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise 

Of conflict ; over head the dismal hiss 

Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew, 

And flying vaulted either host with fire. 

So under fiery cope together rush'd 

Both battles main, with ruinous assault 

And inextinguishable rage ; all heav'n 

Resounded, and had earth been then, all earth 

Had to her centre shook. What wonder ? when 

Millions of fierce encountVing; angels fought 

On either side, the least of whom could wield 

These elements, and arm him with the force 

Of all their regions : how much more of power 

Army against army numberless to raise 

Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, 

Though not destroy, their happy native seat; 

Had not the eternal King omnipotent 

From his strong hold of heav'n high overruled 

And limited their might; though number'd such, 

As each divided legion might have seem'd 

A numerous host ; in strength each armed hand 



^ 



^ —*-Qp 

148 PARADISE LOST. 

A legion ; led in fight, yet leader seem'd 

Each warrior single as in chief, expert 

When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 

Of battle, open when, and when to close 

The ridges of grim war ; no thought of flight. 

None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 

That argued fear ; each on himself relied. 

As only in his arm the moment lay 

Of victory : deeds of eternal fame 

Were done, but infinite ; for wide was spread 

That war and various ; sometimes on firm ground 

A standing fight : then soaring on main wing 

Tormented all the air ; all air seem'd then 

Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale 

The battle hung; till Satan, who that day 

Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms 

No equal, ranging through the dire attack 

Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length 

Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd 

Squadrons at once ; with huge two-handed sway 

Brandish'd aloft the horrid edge came down 

Wide wasting : such destruction to withstand 

He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 

Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 

A vast circumference. At his approach 

The great arch-angel from his warlike toil 

Surceased ; and glad, as hoping here to end 

Intestine war in heav'n, th' arch-foe subdued 

Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frown 

And visage all inflamed, first thus began. 

Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt. 
Unnamed in heav'n ; now plenteous, as thou seest 
These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all. 
Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 
And thy adherents : how hast thou disturb'd 
Heav'n's blessed peace, and into nature brought 

d^ ^ 



^ ' ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 149 

Misery, uncreated till the crime 

Of thy rebellion ! how hast thou instill'd 

Thy malice into thousands, once upright 

And faithful, now proved false ! But think not here 

To trouble holy rest ; heav'n casts thee out 

From all her confines : heav'n the seat of bliss 

Brooks not the works of violence and war. 

Hence then, and evil go with thee along, 

Thy offspring, to the place of evil, hell ; 

Thou and thy wicked crew : there mingle broils, 

Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 

Or some more sudden vengeance wing'd from God 

Precipitate thee with augmented pain. 

So spake the prince of angels ; to whom thus 
The adversary. Nor think thou with wind 
Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
Thou canst not. Hast thou turn'd the least of these 
To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise 
Unvanquish'd, easier to transact with me 
That thou shouldst hope, imperious and with threats 
To chase me hence ? err not that so shall end 
The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style 
The strife of glory : which we mean to win, 
Or turn this heav'n itself into the hell 
Thou fablest ; here however to dwell free, 
If not to reign : meanwhile thy utmost force, 
And join Him named Almighty to thy aid, 
I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. 

They ended parle, and both address'd for fight 
Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue 
Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
Human imagination to such highth 
Of Godlike power? for likest gods they seem'd, 
Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms. 
Fit to decide the empire of great heav'n. 

^ 



s- 



-^ 



150 PARADISE LOST. 

Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 

Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields 

Blazed opposite, while expectation stood 

In horror; from each hand with speed retired, 

Where erst was thickest fight, th' angelic throng. 

And left large field, unsafe within the wind 

Of such commotion, such as, to set forth 

Great things by small, if, nature's concord broke. 

Among the constellations war were sprung, 

Two planets, rushing from aspect malign 

Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky 

Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. 

Together both, with next to Almighty arm, 

Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd 

That might determine, and not need repeat, 

As not of power, at once ; nor odds appear'd 

In might or swift prevention ; but the sword 

Of Michael from the armory of God 

Was giv'n him temper'd so, that neither keen 

Nor solid might resist that edge : it met 

The sword of Satan with steep force to smite 

Descending, and in half cut sheer ; nor stay'd. 

But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared 

All his right side ; then Satan first knew pain. 

And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore 

The griding sword with discontinuous wound 

Pass'd thro' him, but th' ethereal substance closed, 

Not long divisible, and from the gash 

A stream of nectarous humour issuing flow'd 

Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed,* 

And all his armour stain'd ere while so bright. 

Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 

By angels many and strong, who interposed 

1 Homer calls the blood of the gods ichor, and describes it as differing from human blood, 
as Milton does that of Satan the Archangel. 



% 




Then Satan Jirst knew pain, 
And writhed him to and f to. 



Page 150. 



^ — ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 151 

Defence, while others bore him on their shields 

Back to his chariot ; where it stood retired 

From off the files of war: there they him laid 

Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, 

To find himself not matchless, and his pride 

Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 

His confidence to equal God in power. 

Yet soon he heal'd ; for spirits that live throughout 

Vital in every part, not as frail man 

In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 

Cannot but by annihilating die; 

Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 

Receive, no more than can the fluid air : 

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear. 

All intellect, all sense, and as they please 

They limb themselves, and color, shape, or size 

Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 

Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserved 
Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 
And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array 
Of Moloch furious king, who him defied. 
And at his chariot wheels to drag him bound 
Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of heav'n 
Refrain'd his tongue blasphemous ; but anon, 
Down cloven to the waist, with shatter'd arms 
And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
Uriel and Raphael, his vaunting foe 
Though huge and in a rock of diamond arm'd, 
Vanquish'd, Adrameleck ' and Asmadai," 
Two potent thrones, that to be less than Gods 
Disdain'd, but meaner thoughts learn'd in their flight. 
Mangled with ghastly wounds thro' plate and mail 
Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 



1 One of the idols of Sepharvaim. 2 Kings xvii. 31. 

* The same as Asmodeus, the persecutor of Sara in Tobit. 



«- 



1- 



152 PARADISE LOST. 

The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 
Ariel, and Arioc, and the violence 
Of Ramiel scorch'd and blasted, overthrew. 
I might relate of thousands, and their names 
Eternize here on earth ; but those elect 
Angels, contented with their fame in heav'n, 
Seek not the praise of men : the other sort, 
In micfht though wondrous and in acts of war, 
Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
Cancell'd from heav'n and sacred memory. 
Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 
For strength from truth divided and from just, 
Illaudable, naught merits but dispraise 
And ignominy ; yet to glory aspires 
Vain glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: 
Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 

And now, their mightiest quell'd, the battle swerved, 
With many an inroad gored ; deformed rout 
Enter'd and foul disorder : all the ground 
With shiver'd arm.or strown, and on a heap 
Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, 
And fiery foaming steeds ; what stood, recoil'd 

O'erwearied, through the faint Satanic host 
Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprized, 
Then first with fear surprized and sense of pain 
Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 

By sin of disobedience till that hour 

Not liable to fe^r, or flight, or pain. 

Far otherwise th' inviolable saints 

In cubic phalanx firm advanced entire, 

Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd: 

Such high advantages their innocence 

Gave them above their foes, not to have sinn'd. 

Not to have disobey'd ; in fight they stood 

Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd 

By wound, tho' from their place by violence moved. 



^ 



r^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 153 

Now night her course began, and, over heav'n 
Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, 
And silence on the odious din of war : 
Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
Victor and vanquish'd. On the foughten field 
Michael and his angels prevalent 
Encamping placed in guard their watches round. 
Cherubic waving fires : on th' other part 
Satan with his rebellious disappear'd. 
Far in the dark dislodged, and void of rest 
His potentates to council call'd by night; 
And in the midst thus undismay'd began. 

O now in danger tried, now known in arms 
Not to be overpower'd, companions dear, 
Found worthy not of liberty alone. 
Too mean pretence, but what we more affect, 
Honor, dominion, glory, and, renown ; 
Who have sustain'd one day in doubtful fight, 
(And if one day why not eternal days ?) 
What heaven's Lord had powerfullest to send 
Against us from about His throne, and judged 
Sufficient to subdue us to His will 
But proves not so : then fallible, it seems, 
Of future we may deem Him, though till now 
Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm'd. 
Some disadvantage we endured and pain. 
Till now not known, but known, as soon contemn'd ; 
Since now we find this our empyreal form 
Incapable of mortal injury, 
Imperishable, and though pierced with wound 
Soon closing, and by native vigor heal'd. 
Of evil then so small as easy think 
The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms. 
Weapons more violent, when next we meet, 
May serve to better us, and worse our foes : 
Or equal what between us made the odds, 

d^ ^ 



^ ^ 

154 PARADISE LOST. 

In nature none : if other hidden cause 
Left them superior, while we can preserve 
Unhurt our minds and understanding sound, 
Due search and consultation will disclose. 

He sat ; and in th' assembly next upstood 
Nisroch,' of principalities the prime; 
As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, 
Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havock hewn ; 
And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake. 

Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
Enjoyment of our right as Gods ; yet hard 
For Gods, and too unequal work we find 
Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 
Against unpain'd, impassive ; from which evil 
Ruin must needs ensue, for what avails 
Valor or strength, though matchless, quell'd with pain, 
Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hand 
Of mightiest ? sense of pleasure we may well 
Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 
But live content, which is the calmest life : 
But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
Of evils, and excessive overturns 
All patience. He who therefore can invent 
With what more forcible we may offend 
Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
No less than for deliverance what we owe. 

Whereto with look composed Satan replied. 
Not uninvented that, which thou aright 
Believ'st so main to our success, T bring : 
Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, 
This continent of spacious heav'n, adorn'd 

1 Nisroch was worshipped by the Assyrians. It was in his temple that Sennacherib was 
slain by his two sons. See a Kings xix. 37. 

d^ . ^ 



^ ~QP 

PARADISE LOST. 155 

With plant, fruit, flow'r ambrosial, gems, and gold, 
Whose eye so superficially surveys 
These things, as not to mind from whence they grow 
Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, 
Of spirituous and fiery spume, till touch'd 
With heaven's ray, and temper'd they shoot forth 
So beauteous, op'ning to the ambient light ? 
These in their dark nativity the deep 
Shall yield us pregnant with mfernal flame. 
Which into hollow engines long and round 
Thick-ramm'd, at th' other bore with touch of fire 
Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
From far with thund'ring noise among our foes 
Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarm'd 
The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. 
Nor long shall be our labor ; yet ere dawn, 
Effect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive ; 
Abandon fear; to strength and counsel join'd 
Think nothing hard, much less to be despair'd. 
He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 

Enlighten'd, and their languish'd hope revived. 
Th' invention all admired, and each, how he 
To be th' inventor miss'd, so easy it seem'd 

Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought 

Impossible : yet haply of thy race 

In future days, if malice should abound, 

Some one intent on mischief, or inspired 

With dev'lish machination, might devis2 

Like instrument, to plague the sons of men 

For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 

Forthwith from council to the work they flew, 

None arguing stood ; innumerable hands 

Were ready; in a moment up they turn'd 

Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 

^ ^ 



a- -^ 

156 PARADISE LOST. 

Th' originals of nature in their crude 
' Conception : sulphurous and nitrous foam 
They found, they mingled, and with subtle art 
Concocted and adusted they reduced 
To blackest grain, and into store convey'd. 
Part hidden veins digg'd up, nor hath this earth 
Entrails unlike, of mineral and stone. 
Whereof to found their engines and their balls 
Of missive ruin ; part incentive reed 
Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 
So all ere day-spring, under conscious night 
Secret, they finish'd, and in order set, 
With silent circumspection unespied. 

Now when fair morn orient in heav'n appear'd, 
Up rose the victor angels, and to arms 
The matin trumpet sung : in arms they stood 
Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
Soon banded ; others from the dawning hills 
Look'd round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, 
Each quarter, to descry the distant foe. 
Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, 
In motion or in halt : him soon they met 
Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow 
But firm battalion : back with speediest sail 
Zophiel, of cherubim the swiftest wing, 
Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried. 

Arm warriors, arm for fight, the foe at hand, 
Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
This day. Fear not his flight, so thick a cloud 
He comes, and settled in his face I see 
Sad resolution and secure : let each 
His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, 
Borne ev'n or high; for this day will pour down, 
If I conjecture aught, no drizzling show'r, 
But rattling storm of arrows barb'd with fire. 



't> 



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PARADISE LOST. 157 

So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon 
In order, quit of all impediment; 
Instant without disturb they took alarm, 
And onward move embattell'd ; when behold 
Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
Approaching gross and huge; in hollow cube 
Training his devilish enginry, impaled 
On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 
Awhile ; but suddenly at head appear'd 
Satan ; and thus was heard commanding loud. 

Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold ; 
That all may see, who hate us, how we seek 
Peace and composure, and with open breast 
Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
Our overture, and turn not back perverse ; 
But that I doubt ; however witness heaven, 
Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge 
Freely our part : ye who appointed stand 
Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch 
What we propound, and loud that all may hear. 

So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce 
Had ended ; when to right and left the front 
Divided, and to either flank retired : 
Which to our eyes discover'd, new and strange, 
A triple mounted row of pillars, laid 
On wheels, for like to pillars most they seem'd, 
Or hollow'd bodies made of oak or fir 
With branches lopp'd, in wood or mountain fell'd, 
Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
With hideous orifice gaped on us wide. 
Portending hollow truce ; at each behind 
A seraph stood, and in his hand a reed 
Stood waving tipp'd with fire ; while we suspense 
Collected stood within our thoughts amused ; 
Not long, for sudden all at once their reeds 

^fe — ^ 



a- -^ 

158 PARADISE LOST. 

Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied 

With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 

But soon obscured with smoke all heav'n appear'd, 

From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 

Embowell'd with outrageous noise the air, 

And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 

Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail 

Of iron globes, which on the victor host 

Levell'd with such impetuous fury smote, 

That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand. 

Though standing else as rocks ; but down they fell 

By thousands, angel on archangel roll'd. 

The sooner for their arms ; unarm'd tliey might 

Have easily as spirits evaded swift 

By quick contraction or remove : but now 

Foul dissipation follow'd and forced rout : 

Nor served it to relax their serried files. 

What should they do ? if on they rush'd, repulse 

Repeated, and indecent overthrow 

Doubled, would render them yet more despised. 

And to their foes a laughter : for in view 

Stood rank'd of seraphim another row, 

In posture to displode their second tire 

Of thunder; back defeated to return 

They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld their plight, 

And to his mates thus in derision call'd. 

O friends, why come not on these victors proud ? 
Ere while they fierce were coming, and when \v^. 
To entertain them fair with open front 
And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms 
Of composition, straight they changed their minds. 
Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
As they would dance : yet for a dance they seem'd 
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 
For joy of offer'd peace : but I suppose. 
If our proposals once again were heard, 



a- ^ — 

PARADISE LOST. 159 

We should compel them to a quick result. 

To whom thus Belial in like gamesome mood. 
Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight. 
Of hard contents, and full of force urged home ; 
Such as we might perceive amused them all. 
And stumbled many ; who receives them right, 
Had need from head to foot well understand ; 
Not understood, this gift they have besides. 
They show us when our foes walk not upright. 

So they among themselves in pleasant vein 
Stood scoffing, heighten'd in their thoughts beyond 
All doubt of victory ; eternal might 
To match with their inventions they presumed 
So easy, and of His thunder made a scorn, 
And all His host derided, while they stood 
Awhile in trouble ; but they stood not long ; 
Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms 
Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. 
Forthwith, behold the excellence, the power 
Which God hath in his mighty angels placed ! 
Their arms away they threw, and to the hills, 
For earth hath this variety from heav'n 
Of pleasure situate in hill and dale. 
Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew, 
From their foundations loos'ning to and fro 
They pluck'd the seated hills with all their load, 
Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops 
Up lifting bore them in their hands. Amaze, 
Be sure, and terror seized the rebel host, 
When coming towards them so dread they saw 
The bottom of the mountains upward turn'd ; 
Till on those cursed engines triple-row 
They saw them whelm'd, and all their confidence 
Under the weight of mountains buried deep. 
Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 
Main promontories flung, which in the air 



l6o PARADISE LOST. 

Came shadowing, and opprest whole legions arm'd ; 

Their armor help'd their harm, crush'd in and bruised 

Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 

Implacable, and many a dolorous groan, 

Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind 

Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light, 

Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. 

The rest in imitation to like arms 

Betook them, and the neighboring hills uptore ; 

So hills amid the air encounter'd hills, 

Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire. 

That under ground they fought in dismal shade ; 

Infernal noise ; war seem'd a civil game 

To this uproar ; horrid confusion heap'd 

Upon confusion rose : and now all heav'n 

Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread. 

Had not th' Almighty Father, where he sits 

Shrined in his sanctuary of heav'n secure, 

Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen 

This tumult, and permitted all, advised : 

That his great purpose he might so fulfil. 

To honor his anointed Son avenged 

Upon his enemies, and to declare 

All power on him transferr'd : whence to his Son 

Th' assessor of his throne he thus began. 

Effulgence of my glory. Son beloved, 
Son in whose face invisible is beheld 
Visibly, what by Deity I am. 
And in whose hand what by decree I do. 
Second Omnipotence, two days are past, 
Two days, as we compute the days of heav'n. 
Since Michael and his powers went forth to tame 
These disobedient ; sore hath been their fight. 
As likeliest was, when two such foes met arm'd ; 
For to themselves I left them, and thou know'st, 
Equal in their creation they were form'd, 

^ ■ -& 



^ -■ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. i6i 

Save what sin hath impair'd, which yet hath wrought 

Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; 

Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 

Endless, and no solution will be found. 

War wearied hath perform'd what war can do, 

And to disorder'd rage let loose the reins, 

With mountains as with weapons arm'd, which makes 

Wild work in heav'n and dangerous to the main. 

Two days are therefore past, the third is thine ; 

For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus far 

Have suffer'd, that the glory may be thine 

Of ending this great war, since none but thou 

Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 

Immense I have transfused, that all may know 

In heav'n and hell thy power above compare, 

And this perverse commotion govern'd thus. 

To manifest thee worthiest to be heir 

Of all things, to be heir and to be king 

By sacred unction,^ thy deserved right. 

Go then, thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might. 

Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 

That shake heav'n's basis, bring forth all my war, 

My bow and thunder, my almighty arms 

Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh ;^ 

Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 

From all heav'n's bounds into the utter deep : 

There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 

God and Messiah his anointed king. 

He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
Shone full. He all his Father full exprest 
Ineffably into His face received, 
And thus the filial Godhead answering spake. 

Father, O Supreme of heav'nly thrones, 
First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou always seek'st 

1 Psalm xlv. 7. 2 Psalm xlv. 3, 4. 
i II 

4-- ^ 



162 PARADISE LOST. 

To glorify thy Son,^ I always thee, 

As is most just ; this I my glory account, 

My exaltation, and my whole delight. 

That thou in me well pleased declar'st thy will 

Fulfill'd, which to fulfill is all my bliss. 

Sceptre and power, thy giving, I assume. 

And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 

Thou shalt be all in all,^ and I in thee 

For ever, and in me all whom thou lov'st :^ 

But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on 

Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on. 

Image of thee in all things ; and shall soon, 

Arm'd with thy might, rid heav'n of these rebell'd. 

To their prepared ill mansion driven down 

To chains of darkness,'* and th' undying worm f 

That from thy just obedience could revolt, 

Whom to obey is happiness entire. 

Then shall thy saints unmix'd, and from th' impure 

Far separate, circling thy holy mount 

Unfained hallelujahs to thee sing. 

Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief. 

So said, he, o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 
From the right hand of glory where he sat, 
And the third sacred morn began to shine. 
Dawning through heav'n : forth rush'd with whirlwind sound 
The chariot of paternal Deity, 

Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, 
Itself instinct with spirit, but convoy'd 
By four cherubic shapes ; four faces each 
Had wondrous, as with stars their bodies all 
And wings were set with eyes, with eyes the wheels 
Of beryl,^ and careering fires between f 
Over their heads a crystal firmament, 

' John xvii. 4, 5. 21 Cor. xv. 28. 3 John xvii. 21, 23. * 2 Peter ii. 4. » Mark ix. 44. 
* A beryl is a precious stone of sea-green color. — Newton. ' See Ezek. i. 

^— _^^ 



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PARADISE LOST. 163 

Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
Amber, and colors of the show'ry arch. 
He, in celestial panoply all arm'd 
Of radiant Urim' work divinely wrought, 
Ascended ; at his right hand Victory 
Sate eagle-winged, beside him hung his bow 
And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored, 
And from about him fierce effusion roll'd 
Of smoke,^ and bxkering flame, and sparkles dire. 
Attended with ten thousand thousand saints ^ 
He onward came, far off his coming shone, 
And twenty thousand,^ I their number heard. 
Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen. 
He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime." 
On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned. 
Illustrious far and wide, but by his own 
First seen, them unexpected joy surprised. 
When the great ensign of Messiah blazed, 
Aloft by angels borne, his sign in heav'n :** 
Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 
His army, circumfused on either wing, 
Under their Head^ embodied all in one. 
Before him power divine his way prepared : 
At his command the uprooted hills retired 
Each to his place, they heard his voice and went 
Obsequious : Heav'n his wonted face renew'd. 
And with fresh flow'rets hill and valley smiled. 
This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, 
And to rebellious fight rallied their powers 
Insensate, hope conceiving from despair: 
In heav'nly spirits could such perverseness dwell ? 
But to convince the proud M^hat signs avail. 
Or wonders move the obdurate to relent ? 



1 Exod. xxviii. 2. 2 Psalm xviii. 8 ; i. 3. ^ Jude 14. < Psalm Ixviii. 17. 

5 Psalm xviii. 10. ^ Matt. xxiv. 30. ' Rom. xii. 5. 



^ -^ 

164 PARADISE LOST, 

They harden'd more by what might most reclaim; 

Grieving to see His glory, at the sight 

Took envy, and, aspiring to His highth, 

Stood reimbattled fierce, by force or fraud 

Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 

Against God and Messiah, or to fall 

In universal ruin last; and now 

To final battle drew, disdaining flight, 

Or faint retreat ; when the great Son of God 

To all his hosts on either hand thus spake. 

Stand still in bright array, ye saints, here stand, 
Ye angels arm'd, this day from battle rest ; 
Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
Accepted, fearless in His righteous cause, 
And as ye have received, so have ye done 
Invincibly : but of this cursed crew 
The punishment to other hand belongs ; 
Vengeance is His,^ or whose He sole appoints : 
Number to this day's work is not ordain'd, 
Nor multitude, stand only and behold 
God's indignation on these godless pour'd 
By Me ; not you, but me they have despised. 
Yet envied : against me is all their rage. 
Because the Father, to whom in heav'n supreme 
Kingdom, and power, and glory appertains. 
Hath honor'd me according to his will. 
Therefore to me their doom he hath assign'd ; 
That they may have their wish, to try with me 
In battle which the stronger proves, they all, 
Or I alone against them ; since by strength 
They measure all, of other excellence 
Not emulous, nor care who then excels ; 
Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. 

So spake the Son, and into terror changed 



1 Deut. xxxii. 35. Rom. xii. 19. 

c^ : ^ -^ 



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PARADISE LOST. 165 

His count'nance, too severe to be beheld 
And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
At once the Four' spread out their starry wings 
With dreadful shake contiguous, and the orbs 
Of his fierce chariot roU'd, as with the sound 
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. 
He on His impious foes right onward drove, 
Gloomy as night ; under His burning wheels 
The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, 
All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
Among them He arrived, in His right hand 
Grasping ten thousand thunders, which He sent 
Before Him, such as in their souls infix'd 
Plagues ; they astonish'd all resistance lost, 
All courage ; down their idle weapons dropp'd ; 
O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads He rode 
Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate. 
That wish'd the mountams now might be again ^ 
Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire. 
Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 
His arrows, from the fourfold visaged Four, 
Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels 
Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; 
One spirit in them ruled, and every eye 
Glared light'ning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
Among th' accurst, that wither'd all their strength. 
And of their wonted vigor left them drain'd, 
Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n. 
Yet half his strength He put not forth, but check'd 
His thunder in mid volley, for He meant 
Not to destroy, but root them out of heav'n. 
The overthrown He raised, and as a herd 
Of goats or timorous flock together throng'd 
Drove them before Him thunder-struck, pursued 

' The four Cherubim. Ezek. i. - Rev. vi. i6. 

^ ^ ^ 



1 i66 PARADISE LOST. 

With terrors and with furies to the bounds 
j And crystal wall of heav'n, which op'ning wide 

Roll'd inward, and a spacious gap disclosed 
; Into the wasteful deep ; the monstrous sight 

Struck them with horror backward ; but far worse 
Urged them behind ; headlong themselves they threw 
Down from the verge of heav'n, eternal wrath 
Burn'd after them to the bottomless pit. 
Hell heard th' unsufferable noise, hell saw 
Heav'n ruining from heav'n, and would have fled 
Affrighted ; but strict fate had cast too deep 
Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 
i Nine days they fell ; confounded Chaos roar'd. 

And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
Through his wild anarchy ; so huge a rout 
Incumber'd him with ruin : hell at last 
Yawning received them whole, and on them closed ; 
Hell their fit habitation, fraught with fire 
Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
Disburden'd heav'n rejoiced, and soon repair'd 
Her mural breach, returning whence it roll'd. 

Sole victor from th' expulsion of his foes 
Messiah His triumphal chariot turn'd : 
To meet Him all His saints, who silent stood 
Eye-witnesses of His almighty acts. 
With jubilee advanced; and as they went, 
Shaded with branching palm, each order bright 
Sung triumph, and Him sung victorious King, 
Son, Heir, and Lord, to Him dominion given. 
Worthiest to reign : He celebrated rode 
Triumphant through mid heav'n, into the courts 
And temple of His mighty Father throned 
On high ; who into glory Him received,^ 
Where now He sits at the right hand of bliss. 



1 I Tim. iii. i6. Heb. i. 3. 



-e 




Hell at last. 
Yawning, received them whole. 



Page 166. 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 167 

Thus measuring things in heav'n by things on earth, 
At thy request, and that thou may'st beware 
By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd 
What might have else to human race been hid : 
The discord which befell, and war in heav'n 
Among th' angelic powers, and the deep fall 
Of those too high aspirmg, who rebell'd 
With Satan, he who envies now thy state, 
Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
Thee also from obedience, that with him 
Bereaved of happiness thou may'st partake 
His punishment, eternal misery, 
Which would be all his solace and revenge. 
As a despite done against the Most High, 
Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
But listen not to his temptations, warn 
Thy weaker, let it profit thee to have heard 
By terrible example the reward 
Of disobedience ; firm they might have stood, 
Yet fell : remember, and fear to transgress. 



^ -4" 



^ 



^ 



i68 PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK VII. 

The Argument. 

Raphael, at the request of Adam, relates how, and wherefore, this world was first created; 
that God, afier the expelling of Satan and his angels out ol heaven, declared his pleasure to 
create another world, and other creatures to dwell therein; sends hii Son with glory and 
attendance of ange s to perform the work of creation in six days ; the angels celebrate with 
hymns the performance thereof, and his reascension into heaven. 

Descend from heav'n, Urania/ by that name 
If rightly thou art call'd, whose voice divine 
Following, above th' Olympian hill I soar, 
Above the flight of Pegasean wing.^ 
The meaning, not the name, I call : for thou 
Nor of the Muses nine,^ nor on the top 
Of old Olympus dwell'st, but heav'nly born, 
Before the hills appear'd, or fountain flow'd, 
Thou with eternal Wisdom didst converse, 
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 
In presence of th' almighty Father, pleased 
With thy celestial song. Up led by thee 
Into the heav'n of heav'ns I have presumed. 
An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air 
Thy temp'ring ; with like safety guided down 
Return me to my native element : 
Least from this flying steed unrein'd, as once 
Bellerophon,^ though from a lower clime, 



1 The word "Urania" signifies heavenly. Here the Poet means Heavenly Muse. 

2 The winged horse, Pegasus, said to belong to the Muses, was emblematical of flights of 
imagination. 

a Urania, amongst the Muses, was the patroness of Astronomy. 

* Bellerophon, the son of Glaucus, was a beautiful youth, who was falsely accused by 
Sthenoboea, Queen of Argos, to her husband. Proetus, King of Argos, sent him, in conse- 
quence, into Lycia with letters commanding that he should be exposed to destruction. He 
escaped from many perilous enterprises forced on him ; but when he attempted to mount to 
heaven on the wmged horse, Pegasus (incited to the trial by vainglory) , he was thrown off, 

4^ —4 



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PARADISE LOST. 169 

Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall 

Erroneous, there to wander and forlorn. 

Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound. 

Within the visible diurnal sphere; 

Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, 

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged 

To hoarse or mute, though fall'n on evil days. 

On evil days though fall'n and evil tongues ; 

In darkness, and with dangers compast round, 

And solitude ; yet not alone, while thou 

Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn 

Purples the east. Still govern thou my song, 

Urania, and fit audience find, though few. 

But drive far off the barbarous dissonance 

Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 

Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard 

In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 

To rapture, till the savage clamor drown'd 

Both harp and voice ; nor could the Muse defend 

Her son.^ So fail not thou, who thee implores : 

For thou art heav'nly, she an empty dream. 

Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphael, 

The affable arch-angel, had forewarn'd 

Adam by dire example to beware 

Apostasy, by what befell in heav'n 

To those apostates, lest the like befall 

In Paradise to Adam or his race, 

Charged not to touch the interdicted tree, 

If they transgress, and slight that sole command. 

So easily obey'd, amid the choice 

Of all tastes else to please their appetite 

and wandered on the Aleian plains for the remainder of his life. The Aleian plains were in 
Cilicia. 

1 Orpheus was torn to pieces by the Bacchanalian women of Rhodope, a mountain of 
Thrace; nor could his mother, the Muse Calliope, save him. Newton thinks that Milton 
here alludes to the dissolute Court of Charles II, 



^ 



170 



PARADISE LOST. 

Though wand'ring. He with his consorted Eve 

The story heard attentive, and was fill'd 

With admiration and deep muse, to hear 

Of things so high and strange, things to their thought 

So unimaginable as hate in heav'n, 

And war so near the peace of God in bhss 

With such confusion : but the evil soon 

Driven back redounded as a flood on those 

From whom it sprung, impossible to mix 

With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd 

The doubts that in his heart arose : and now 

Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 

What nearer might concern him, how this world 

Of heav'n and earth conspicuous first began, 

When, and whereof created, for what cause, 

What within Eden, or without was done 

Before his memory, as one whose drouth 

Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current stream. 

Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, 

Proceeded thus to ask his heav'nly guest. 

Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 
Far differing from this world, thou hast reveal'd, 
Divine interpreter, by favor sent 
Down from the empyrean to forewarn 
Us timely of what might else have been our loss. 
Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach : 
For which to the infinitely Good we owe 
Immortal thanks, and His admonishment 
Receive with solemn purpose to observe 
Immutably His sovereign will, the end 
Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 
Gently for our instruction to impart 
Things above earthly thought, which yet concern'd 
Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seem'd, 
Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
What may no less perhaps avail us known ; 



^ 



S a, 



171 



PARADISE LOST. 

How first began this heav'n which we behold 

Distant so high, with moving fires adorn'd 

Innumerable, and this which yields or fills 

All space, the ambient air wide interfused 

Embracing round this florid earth ; what cause 

Moved the Creator in his holy rest 

Through all eternity so late to build 

In Chaos ; and the work begun, how soon 

Absolved ; if unforbid thou may'st unfold 

What we, not to explore, the secrets, ask 

Of His eternal empire, but the more 

To magnify His works, the more we know. 

And the great light of day yet wants to run 

Much of his race though steep; suspense in heav'n 

Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 

And longer will delay to hear thee tell 

His generation, and the rising birth 

Of nature from the unapparent deep : 

Or if the star of ev'ning and the moon 

Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 

Silence, and sleep list'ning to thee will watch ; 

Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 

End, and dismiss thee ere the morning- shine. 

Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; 
And thus the Godlike Angel answer'd mild. 

This also thy request with caution ask'd 
Obtain : though to recount almighty works 
What words or tongue of seraph can suffice, 
Or heart of man suffice to comprehend ? 
Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve 
To glorify the Maker, and infer 
Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
Thy hearing, such commission from above 
I have received, to answer thy desire 
Of knowledge within bounds ; beyond abstain 
To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 

^-~— '- -^ 



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172 PARADISE LOST. 

Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King/ 
Only omniscient, hath supprest in night, 
To none communicable in earth or heav'n : 
Enough is left besides to search and know. 
But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
Her temperance over appetite, to know 
In measure what the mind may well contain, 
Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. 

Know then, that after Lucifer from heav'n, 
So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
Of angels, than that star the stars among, 
Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
Into his place, and the great Son return'd 
Victorious with his saints, th' omnipotent 
Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake. 

At least our envious foe hath fail'd, who thought 
All like himself rebellious, by whose aid 
This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
Of deity supreme, us dispossest. 
He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
Drew many, whom their place knows here no more ; 
Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 
Their station, heav'n yet populous retains 
Number sufficient to possess her realms 
Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
With ministries due and solemn rites. 
But lest his heart exalt him in the harm 
Already done, to have dispeopled heav'n, 
My damage fondly deem'd, I can repair 
That detriment, if such it be to lose 
Self-lost, and in a moment will create 
Another world, out of one man a race 

1 I Tim. i. 17. 



^ 



— ^ — Qp 

PARADISE LOST. 173 

Of men innumerable, there to dwell, 

Not here, till by degrees of merit raised, 

They open to themselves at length the way 

Up hither, under long obedience tried ; 

And earth be changed to heav'n, and heav'n to earth, 

One kingdom, joy and union without end. 

Meanwhile inhabit lax/ ye powers of heav'n, 

And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee, 

This I perform, speak thou, and be it done. 

My overshadowing spirit and might with thee 

I send along ; ride forth, and bid the deep 

Within appointed bounds be heav'n and earth ; 

Boundless the deep, because I am who fill 

Infinitude, nor vacuous the space ; 

Though I uncircumscribed myself retire, 
And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
To act, or not, necessity and chance 
Approach not me, and what I will is fate. 

So spake th' Almighty, and to what he spake 
His Word, the Filial Godhead, gave effect. 
Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
Than time or motion, but to human ears 
Cannot without process of speech be told. 
So told as earthly notion can receive. 
Great triumph and rejoicing was in heav'n, 
When such was heard declared the Almighty's will ; 
Glory they sung to the Most High, good will 
To future men, and in their dwellings peace ; 
Glory to Him, whose just avenging ire 
Had driven out th' ungodly from His sight 
And th' habitations of the just; to Him, 
Glory and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd 
Good out of evil to create, instead 
Of spirits malign a better race to bring 



1 The meaning seems to be, "Occupy the space left by the fall of the angels.' 

4 ^ 



4 



^ ^ -^ 

174 PARADISE LOST. 

Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse 
His good to worlds and ages infinite. 

So sang the Hierarchies. Meanwhile the Son 
On his great expedition now appear'd, 
Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crown'd 
Of Majesty divine, sapience and love 
Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
About his chariot numberless were pour'd 
Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, 
And Virtues, winged Spirits, and Chariots vving'd, 
From the armory of God, where stand of old 
Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged 
Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand. 
Celestial equipage ; and now came forth 
Spontaneous, for within them spirit lived, 
Attendant on their Lord : heav'n opcn'd wide 
Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound 
On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
The King of glory, in his powerful Word 
And Spirit coming to create new worlds. 
On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore 
They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss 
Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild. 
Up from the bottom turn'd by furious winds 
And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
Heav'n's highth, and with the centre mix the pole. 

Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou deep, peace, 
Said then th' omnific Word, your discord end. 

Nor stay'd ; but, on the wings of Cherubim 
Uplifted, in Paternal Glory rode 
Far into Chaos and the world unborn ; 
For Chaos heard his voice. Him all his train 
Followed in bright procession to behold 
Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
Then stay'd the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
He took the golden compasses,^ prepared 



4 



Prov. viii. 27.— RICHARDSON. 



-4" 



s-- 



<b 



PARADISE LOST. 

In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
This universe, and all created things. 
One foot he centered, and the other turn'd 
Round through the vast profundity obscure. 
And said, Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 
This be thy just circumference, O world. 
Thus God the heav'n created, thus the earth, 
Matter unform'd and void. Darkness profound 
Cover'd th' Abyss ; but on the watery calm 
His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread,* 
And vital virtue infused and vital warmth 
Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged 
The black, tartareous, cold infernal dregs, 
Adverse 'to life : then founded, then conglobed 
Like things to like ; the rest to several place 
Disparted, and between spun out the air. 
And earth self-balanced on her centre hung. 

Let there be light, said God, and forthwith light 
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure. 
Sprung from the deep, and from her native east 
To journey through the aery gloom began. 
Sphered in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
Was not ; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
Sojourn'd the while. God saw the light was good; 
And light from darkness by the hemisphere 
Divided : light the day, and darkness night, 
He named. Thus was the first day ev'n and morn : 
Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung 
By the celestial choirs, when orient light 
Exhaling first from darkness they beheld. 
Birthday of heav'n and earth ; with joy and shout ^ 
The hollow universal orb they fill'd, 
And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning praised 
God and his works, creator him they sung, 

1 Gen. i. 1,2. "'' Job xxxviii. 4, 7. 



175 



^ 



-& 



176 • PARADISE LOST. 

Both when first evening was, and when first morn. 

Again God said, Let there be firmament ' 
Amid the waters, and let it divide 
The waters from the waters : and God made 
The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
Transparent, elemental air, diffused 
In circuit to the uttermost convex 
Of this great round ; partition firm and sure, 
The waters underneath from those above 
Dividing : for as earth, so he the world 
Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 
Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes 
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
And heav'n He named the firmament : so ev'n 
And morning chorus sung the second day. 

The earth was form'd, but, in the womb as yet 
* Of waters embryon immature involved, 
Appear'd not : over all the face of earth 
Main ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warm 
Prolific humor soft'ning all her globe 
Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
Satiate with genial moisture, when God said, 
Be gather'd now, ye waters under heav'n, 
Into one place, and let dry land appear. 
Immediately the mountains huge appear 
Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky. 
So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
Capacious bed of waters : thither they . 

Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd 
As drops on dust conglobing from the dry : 
Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 

1 Firmament signifies expansion. — NEWTON. 

^ ^ 



PARADISE LOST. lyy 

For haste ; such flight the great command imprest 

On the swift floods : as armies at the call 

Of trumpet, for of armies thou hast heard, 

Troop to their standard, so the watery throng, 

Wave rolling after wave, where way they found; 

If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, 

Soft-ebbing: nor withstood them rock or hill, 

But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 

With serpent error wandering, found their way, 

And on the washy oose deep channels wore, 

Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 

All but within those banks, where rivers now 

Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 

The dry land, earth ; and the great receptacle 

Of congregated waters He call'd seas ; 

And saw that it was good, and said, Let the earth 

Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, 

And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind ; 

Whose seed is in herself upon the earth. 

He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 

Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned. 

Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 

Her universal face with pleasant green ; 

Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flow'd 

Opening their various colors, and made gay 

Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown, 

Forth flourish'd thick the clustering vine, forth crept 

The swelling gourd, up stood the corny reed 

Embattled in her field ; and the humble shrub, 

And bush with frizzled hair implicit : last 

Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 

Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd 

Their blossoms : with high woods the hills were crown'd. 

With tufts the valleys and each fountain side : 

With borders long the rivers : that earth now 

Seem'd like to heav'n, a seat where Gods might dwell, 



178 PARADISE LOST. 

Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 

Her sacred shades: though God had* yet not rain'd 

Upon the earth, and man to till the ground 

None was ; but from the earth a dewy mist 

Went up and water'd all the ground, and each 

Plant of the field ; which, ere it was in the earth, 

God made, and every herb, before it grew 

On the green stem : God saw that it was good : 

So ev'n and morn recorded the third day. 

Again th' Almighty spake : Let there be lights 
High in th' expanse of heaven to divide 
The day from night ; and let them be for signs, 
For seasons, and for days, and circling years ; 
And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
Their office in the firmament of heav'n 
To give light on the earth ; and it was so. 
And God made two great lights, great for their use 
To man, the greater to have rule by day, 
The less by night, altern : and made the stars, 
And set them in the firmament of heav'n. 
To illuminate the earth, and rule the day 
In their vicissitude, and rule the night. 
And light from darkness to divide. God saw, 
Surveying His great work, that it was good : 
For of celestial bodies first the sun, 
A mighty sphere, He framed, unlightsome first. 
Though of ethereal mould: then form'd the moon 
Globose, and every magnitude of stars. 
And sow'd with stars the heav'n thick as a field. 
Of light by far the greater part he took, 
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 
In the sun's orb, made porous to receive 
And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 
Her gather'd beams, great palace now of light. 
Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 

^ -& 




And God said: Lei the waters generate 
Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul. 



Page 178. 



^ Q7 

PARADISE LOST. 179 

And hence the morning planet gilds her horns : 

By tincture or reflection they augment 

Their small peculiar, though from human sight 

So far remote, with diminution seen. 

First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 

Regent of day, and all the horizon round 

Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 

His longitude through heav'n's high road : the gray 

Dawn and the Pleiades before him danced, 

Shedding sweet influence.^ Less bright the moon, 

But opposite in levell'd west was set 

His mirror, with full face borrowing her light 

From him, for other light she needed none 

In that respect; and still that distance keeps 

Till night, then in the east her turn she shines, 

Revolved on heav'n's great axle, and her reign 

With thousand lesser lights dividual holds. 

With thousand thousand stars that then appear'd 

Spangling the hemisphere : then first adorn'd 

With their bright luminaries, that set and rose. 

Glad ev'ning and glad morn crown'd the fourth day. 

And God said, Let the Waters generate^ 
Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul : 
And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
Display'd on the open firmament of heav'n. 
And God created the great whales, and each 
Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
The waters generated by their kinds, 
And every bird of wing after his kind ; 

1 The Pleiades are seven stars in the neck of the constellation Taurus, which, rising about 
the time of the vernal equinox, are called by the Latins " Vergiliae." Milton, therefore, in 
saying that the Pleiades danced before the sun at his creation, implies that creation began 
with the spring. — From Newto.V. It has been a recent idea ot astronomers, that the 
Pleiades, or seven suns — for fixed stars are suns— are the centre of the universe round which 
the heavens revolve ; but this is not yet clearly ascertained. Job speaks of "the sweet in- 
fluences of the Pleiades." — See Jobxxxviii. 31. 

2 Gen. i. 20, 22. 



1 80 PARADISE LOST. 

And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying, 
Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas, 
And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill ; 
And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth. 
Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay. 
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals 
Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales 
Glide under the green wave, in sculls' that oft 
Bank the mid sea : part single, or with mate, 
Graze the seaweed their pasture, and through groves 
Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance 
Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold ; 
Or in their pearly shells at ease attend 
Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 
In jointed armour watch : on smooth the seal 
And bended dolphins play; part huge of bulk, 
Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
Tempest the ocean : there Leviathian, 
Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 
Stretch'd like a promontory sleeps, or swims 
And seems a moving land, and at his gills 
• Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out a sea. 
Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores. 
Their brood as numerous hatch from the &^^, that soon 
Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed 
Their caUow young; but feather'd soon and fledge, 
They summ'd their pens,^ and soaring the air sublime 
With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 
In prospect : there the eagle and the stork 
On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build ■? 
Part loosely wing the region, part more wise 
In common ranged in figure ^ wedge their way, 



1 Schools. We say a "school of whales" for a shoal now. Scull comes from the Saxon 
sceole, an assembly. 

■•i Pens are feathers. Here the meaning is, "They used their pinions as full fl2dged birds." 

* Jeremiah xxxi.\. 27, 28. 

* Migratory birds fly in shape of a wedge, one bird leading alternately. 



^ 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. i8i 

Intelligent of seasons/ and set forth 

Their aery caravan, high over seas 

Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing 

Easing their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 

Her annual voyage, borne on winds ; the air 

Floats, as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes. 

From branch to branch the smaller birds with song 

Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 

Till even ; nor then the solemn nightingale 

Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays. 

Others on silver lakes and rivers bath'd 

Their downy breast ; the swan, with arched neck 

Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 

Her state with oary feet : yet oft they quit 

The dank, and rising on stiff pennons tower 

The mid aerial sky. Others on ground 

Walk'd firm ; the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 

The silent hours, and the other, whose gay train 

Adorns him, color'd with the florid hue 

Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 

With fish replenish'd, and the air with fowl, 

Ev'ning and morn solemnized the fifth day. 

The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
With ev'ning harps and matin ; when God said, 
Let the earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 
Cattle and creeping things, and beast of the earth 
Each in their kind. The earth obey'd, and straight 
Op'ning her fertile womb teem'd at a birth 
Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, 
Limb'd and full grown. Out of the ground up rose 
As from his lair the wild beast where he wonns ^ 
In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den ; 
Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walk'd ; 

1 Jeremiah viii. 7. 

'i Wane is Saxon for to dwell, to inhabit. — 6V^ Chaucer, Sotnpnoure's Tale, line 7745. 

0^ ^ -4" 



^ _ ^ 

182 PARADISE LOST. 

The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 

Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 

Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 

The grassy clods now calved ; now half appear'd 

The tawny lion, pawing to get free 

His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds. 

And rampant shakes his brinded mane ; the ounce, 

The libbard,^ and the tiger, as the mole 

Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 

In hillocks ; the swift stag from under ground 

Bore up his branching head ; scarce from his mould 

Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 

His vastness : fleeced the flocks and bleating rose. 

As plants : ambiguous between sea and land 

The river horse and scaly crocodile. 

At once came forth whatever creeps the ground. 

Insect or worm ; those waved their limber fans 

For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 

In all the liveries deck'd of summer's pride 

With spots of gold and purple, azure and green : 

These as a line their long dimension drew. 

Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 

Minims ^ of nature ; some of serpent kind. 

Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 

Their snaky folds and added wings. First crept 

The parsimonious emmet, provident 

Of future, in small room large heart inclosed, 

Pattern of just equality perhaps 

Hereafter, join'd in her popular tribes 

Of commonalty : swarming next appear'd 

The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 

Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells 

With honey stored : the rest are numberless, 

And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them names. 



1 Leopard. * Something exceedingly small, a dwarf. 



^ 



4 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 1S3 

Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown 
The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 
Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
And hairy mans terrific, though to thee 
Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 

Now heav'n in all her glory shone, and roll'd 
Her motions, as the great First Mover's hand 
First wheel'd their course ; earth in her rich attire 
Consummate lovely smiled ; air, water, earth. 
By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walk'd 
Frequent ; and of the sixth day yet remain'd ; 
There wanted yet the master work, the end 
Of all yet done ; a creature, who not prone 
And brute as other creatures, but indued 
With sanctity of reason, might erect 
His stature, and upright with front serene 
Govern the rest, self-knowing ; and from thence 
Magnanimous to correspond with heav'n ; 
But grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
Descends, thither with heart and voice, and eyes 
Directed in devotion,. to adore 
And worship God supreme, who made him chief 
Of all His works : therefore the omnipotent 
Eternal Father, — for where is not He 
Present? — thus to his Son audibly spake. 

Let us make now man in our image, man ^ 
In our similitude, and let them rule 
Over the fish and fowl of sea and air. 
Beast of the field and over all the earth. 
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground. 
This said, He form'd thee, Adam, thee, O man, 
Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed 
The breath of life : in his own image he 
Created thee, in the image of God 

1 Gen. i. 26-28. 

^B — -4^ 



s ^ 

184 PARADISE LOST. 

Express, and thou becam'st a living soul. 

Male he created thee, but thy consort 

Female for race; then bless'd mankind, and said, 

Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, 

Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 

Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air. 

And every living thing that moves on the earth. 

Wherever thus created, for no place 

Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st. 

He brought thee into this delicious grove, 

This garden, planted with the trees of God, 

Delectable both to behold and taste ; 

And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 

Gave thee, all sorts are here that all th' earth yields. 

Variety without end; but of the tree, 

Which tasted works knowledge of good and evil, 

Thou may'st not: in the day thou eat'st thou diest; 

Death is the penalty imposed ; beware. 

And govern well thy appetite ; lest sin 

Surprise thee, and her black attendant death. 

Here finish'd He, and all that. He had made 
View'd, and behold all was entirely good ; 
So ev'n and morn accomplish'd the sixth day: 
Yet not, till the Creator from His work 
Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd. 
Up to theheav'n of heav'ns His high abode. 
Thence to behold this new-created world, 
Th' addition of His empire, how it show'd 
In prospect from His throne, how good, how fair. 
Answering His great idea. Up He rode, 
Follow'd with acclamation and the sound 
Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned 
Angelic harmonies : the earth, the air 
Resounded, thou remember' st, for thou heard'st ; 
The heav'ns and all the constellations rung. 
The planets in their station list'ning stood, 

45 ^ 



a ^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. ^ 185 

While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 

Open, ye everlasting gates, they sung/ 

Open, ye heavens, your living doors ; let in 

The great Creator, from His work return'd 

Magnificent, His six days' work, a world : 

Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign 

To visit oft the dwellings of just men 

Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 

Thither will send his winged messengers 

On errands of supernal grace. So sung 

The glorious train ascending : He through heav'n, 

That open'd wide her blazing portals, led 

To God's eternal house direct the way, 

A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 

And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear 

Seen in the galaxy, that milky way 

Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest 

Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventh 

P^v'ning arose in Eden, for the sun 

Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 

Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount 

Of heaven's high seated top, th' imperial throne 

Of Godhead, fix'd forever firm and sure, 

The Filial Power arrived, and sat Him down 

With His great Father ; for He also went 

Invisible, yet stay'd, such privilege 

I lath Omnipresence, and the work ordain'd, 

Author and end of all things, and from work 

Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh day, 

As resting on that day from all His work, 

But not in silence holy kept; the harp 

Had work, and rested not ; the solemn pipe 

And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 

1 Psalm xxiv. 7. This Psalm was sung by the Levites when the ark of God was carried 
up into the sanctuary on Mount Sion, and is understood as a prophecy of our Lord's ascen- 
sion. — From Newton, and Manfs "Bible." 



a- -^ 

1 86 PARADISE LOST. 

All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 

Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice 

Choral or unison : of incense, clouds 

Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 

Creation and the six days' acts they sung; 

Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite 

Thy power ; what thought can measure thee, or tongue 

Relate thee ? greater now in thy return 

Than from the giant angels; thee that day 

Thy thunders magnified ; but to create 

Is greater than created to destroy. 

Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound 

Thy empire? easily the proud attempt 

Of Spirits apostate and their counsels vain 

Thou hast repell'd, while impiously they thought 

Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 

The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 

To lessen thee, against his purpose serves 

To manifest the more thy might : his evil 

Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. 

Witness this new-made world, another heav'n 

From heaven gate not far, founded in view 

On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea ; 

Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 

Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 

Of destined habitation ; but thou know'st 

Their seasons : among these the seat of men. 

Earth, with her nether ocean circumfused. 

Their pleasant dwelling place. Thrice happy men, 

And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced. 

Created in His image, there to dwell 

And worship Him; and in reward to rule 

Over His works, on earth, in sea, or air. 

And multiply a race of worshippers 

Holy and just : thrice happy, if they know 

Their happiness, and persevere upright. 

'^~ ■ ^ 



^ ^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 187 

So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
With Hallelujahs : thus was Sabbath kept. 
And thy request think now fulfill'd, that ask'd 
How first this world and face of things began,- 
And what before thy memory was done 
From the beginning, that posterity 
Inform'd by thee might know. If else thou seek'st 
Aught, not surpassing human measure say. 



d^ ^ 



a- ^ 

1 88 PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK VIII. 

The Argument. 

Adam inquires concerning celestial motions, is doubtfully answer'd, and exhorted to 
search rather things more worthy of knowledge. Adam assents ; and still desirous to detain 
Raphael, relates to him what he remember'd since his own creation ; his placing in Paradise; 
his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society; his fir=t meeting and nuptials with Eve; 
his discourse with the angel thereupon; who, after admonitions repeated, departs. 

The angel ended, and in Adam's ear 

So charming left his voice, that he awhile 

Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear : 

Then, as new waked, thus gratefully replied. 

What thanks sufficient, or what recompence 
Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
Historian? who thus largely hast allay'd 
The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed 
This friendly condescension to relate 
Things else by me unsearchable, now heard 
With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
With glory attributed to the high 
Creator : something yet of doubt remains 
Which only thy solution can resolve. 
When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 
Of heav'n and earth consisting, and compute 
Their magnitudes, this earth a spot, a grain, 
An atom, with the firmament compared 
And all her number'd stars, that seem to roll 
Spaces incomprehensible, for such 
Their distance argues, and their swift return 
Diurnal, merely to officiate light 
Round this opacous earth, this punctual ^ spot. 
One day and night, in all their vast survey 

1 Small as a point in punctuation. 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 189 

Useless besides ; reasoning I oft admire, 
How nature wise and frugal could commit 
' Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
So many nobler bodies to create, 
Greater so manifold, to this one use. 
For aught appears, and on their orbs impose 
Such restless revolution day by day 
Repeated, while the sedentary earth, 
That better might with far less compass move, 
Served by more noble than herself, attains 
Her end without least motion, and receives. 
As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light ; 
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails.' 

So spake our sire, and by his count'nance seem'd 
Entering on studious thoughts abstruse ; which Eve 
Perceiving where she sat retired in sight, 
With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
And grace that won who saw to wish her sta\-, 
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow'rs. 
To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom, 
Her nursery ; they at her coming sprung 
And touch'd by her fair tendance gladlier grew. 
Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high : such pleasure she reserved, 
Adam relating, she sole auditress ; 
Her husband the relater she preferr'd 
Before the angel, and of him to ask 
Chose rather ; he, she knew, would intermix 
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
With conjugal caresses ; from his lip 
Not words alone pleased her. O when meet now 

' One is here reminded of the fact that Milton had held communion with Galileo, whose 
" Eppure si muove " is historical. 



^^— ^ 

190 PARADISE LOST- 

Such pairs, in love and mutual honor join'd? 
With Goddess-like demeanor forth she went; 
Not unattended, for on her as queen 
A pomp of winning graces waited still, 
And from about her shot darts of desire 
Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
And Raphael now to Adam's doubt proposed 
Benevolent and facile thus replied. 

To ask or search I blame thee not, for heav'n 
Is as the book of God before thee set, 
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years. 
This to attain, whether heav'n move or earth, 
Imports not, if thou reckon right;^ the rest 
From man or angel the great architect 
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought 
Rather admire ; or if they list to try 
Conjecture, He his fabric of the heav'ns 
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
Hereafter, when they come to model heav'n 
And calculate the stars, how they will wield 
The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive, 
To save appearances ; how gird the sphere 
With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er, 
Cycle and epicycle,^ orb in orb. 
Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest, 
That bodies bright and greater should not serve 

tt The subject was then matter of discussion, and, in the Roman Church, of persecution. 
The Ptolemaic system made the earth the centre of the system, and the sun and stars move 
round it; the Copernican made the sun the centre, and the earth move, as Galileo asserted. 

2 These terms were used by Ptolemaic astronomers to explain their system. Centric means 
a sphere whose centre is the same as that of the earth ; eccentric, a sphere whose centre 
is quite different to that of the earth. Cycle is a circle ; epicycle, a circle on another circle. 



4- 



4 



a ^ — • 

PARADISE LOST. 191 

The less not bright, nor heav'n such journeys run, 

Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 

The benefit. Consider first, that great 

Or bright infers not excellence : the earth 

Though, in comparison of heav'n, so small, 

Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 

More plenty than the sun, that barren shines, 

Whose virtue on itself works no effect. 

But in the fruitful earth : there first received 

His beams, unactive else, their vigor find. 

Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 

Officious, but to thee earth's habitant. 

And for the heav'n's wide circuit, let it speak 

The Maker's high magnificence, who built 

So spacious, and His line stretch'd out so far ; 

That man may know he dwells not in his own ; 

An edifice too large for him to fill, 

Lodged in a small partition, and the rest 

Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known. 

The swiftness of those circles attribute, 

Though numberless, to his omnipotence, 

That to corporeal substances could add 

Speed almost spiritual : me thou think'st not slow, 

Who since the morning hour set out from heav'n 

Where God resides, and ere midday arrived 

In Eden, distance inexpressible 

By numbers that have name. But this I urge. 

Admitting motion in the heav'ns, to show 

Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved ; 

Not that I so affirm, though so it seem 

To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. 

God, to remove his ways from human sense. 

Placed heav'n from earth so far, that earthly sight, 

If it presume, might err in things too high, 

And no advantage gain. What if the sun 

Be centre to the world, and other stars, 

^ —^ 



s- 



^ 



192 PARADISE LOST. 

By his attractive virtue and their own 

Incited, dance about him various rounds ? 

Their wand'ring course now high, now low, then hid, 

Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, 

In six thou seest ;* and what if sev'nth to these 

The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem. 

Insensibly three different motions^ move? 

Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 

Moved contrary with thwart obliquities. 

Or save the sun his labor, and that swift 

Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed, 

Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 

Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, 

If earth industrious of herself fetch day 

Travelling east, and with her part averse 

From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 

Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, 

Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 

To the terrestrial moon be as a star 

Enlight'ning her by day, as she by night 

This earth ? reciprocal, if land be there, 

Fields and inhabitants : her spots thou seest ' 

As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce 

Fruits in her soften'd soil, for some to eat 

Allotted there ; and other suns perhaps 

With their attendant moons thou wilt descry, 

Communicating male and female light, 

Which two great sexes animate the world. 

Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live. 

For such vast room in nature unpossess'd 

By living soul, desert and desolate, 

1 The moon and the five planets visible to Adam. 

2 Three motions were attributed by the Copernicans to the earth. The diurnal, round 
her own axis, causing day and night ; the annual, round the sun ; and the moUon of libration, 
as it is called, whereby the earth so proceeds in her orbit, as that her axis is constantly 
parallel to the axis of the world." — Newto.v. 



^ 



^ ep 

PARADISE LOST. 193 

Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
Each orb a glimpse of lights convey'd so far 
Down to this habitable, which returns 
Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
But whether thus these things, or whether not, 
Whether the sun predominant in heav'n 
Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun, 
He from the east his flaming road begin. 
Or she from west her silent course advance 
With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps 
On her soft axle, while she paces ev'n, 
And bears thee soft with the smooth air alone. 
Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid, 
Leave them to God above. Him serve and fear : 
Of other creatures, as Him pleases best, 
Wherever placed, let Him dispose: joy thou 
In what He gives to thee, this paradise 
And thy fair Eve ; heav'n is for thee too high 
To know what passes there ; be lowly wise : 
Think only what concerns thee and thy being ; 
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 
Live, in what state, condition, or degree, 
Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd 
Not of earth only, but of highest heav'n. 

To whom thus Adam, clear'd of doubt, replied 
How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure 
Intelligence of heav'n, angel serene. 
And freed from intricacies, taught to live 
The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts 
To interrupt the sweet of life, from whi-ch 
God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
And not molest us, unless we ourselves 
Seek them with wand'ring thoughts, and notions vain. 
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
Uncheck'd, and of her roving is no end ; 
Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learn, 

^fe ^ 



-<b 

194 PARADISE LOST. 

That not to know at large of things remote 

From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 

That which before us lies in daily life, 

Is the prime wisdom ; what is more, is fume. 

Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 

And renders us in things that most concern 

Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 

Therefore from this high pitch let us descend 

A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 

Useful, whence haply mention may arise 

Of something not unseasonable to ask 

By sufferance, and thy wonted favor deign'd. 

Thee I have heard relating what was done 

Ere my remembrance : now hear me relate 

My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard ; 

And day is not yet spent; till then thou seest 

How subtly to detain thee I devise, 

Inviting thee to hear while I relate. 

Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply. 

For while I sit with thee, I seem in heav'n. 

And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 

Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst 

And hunger both, from labor, at the hour 

Of sweet repast : they satiate, and soon fill, 

Though pleasant , but thy words, with grace divine 

Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety. 

To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek. 
Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, 
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee 
Abundantly His gifts hath also pour'd 
Inward and outward both, His image fair: 
Speaking or mute all comeliness and grace 
Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms. 
Nor less think we in heav'n of thee on earth, 
Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 
Gladly into the ways of God with man : 

4^ ^ 



'S- 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 195 

For God we see hath honor'd thee, and set 

On man his equal love. Say therefore on ; 

For I that day was absent, as befell. 

Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 

Far on excursion toward the gates of hell, 

Squared in full legion, such command we had, 

To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 

Or enemy, while God was in his work. 

Lest He_. incensed at such eruption bold, 

Destruction with creation might have mix'd. 

Not that they durst without His leave attempt, 

But us He sends upon His high behests 

For state, as Sov'rcign King, and to enure 

Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 

The dismal gates, and barricadoed strong ; 

But long ere our approaching heard within 

Noise, other than the sound of dance or song, 

Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 

Glad we return'd up to the coasts of light 

Ere sabbath ev'ning : so we had in charge. 

But thy relation now ; for I attend. 

Pleased with thy words, no less than thou with mine. 

So spake the godlike Power, and thus our sire. 
For man to tell how human life began 
Is hard ; for who himself beginning knew ? 
Desire with thee still longer to converse 
Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep 
Soft on the flow'ry herb I found me laid, 
In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun 
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
Straight toward heav'n my wond'ring eyes I turn'd, 
And gazed a while the ample sky, till raised 
By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,. 
As thitherward endeavoring, and upright 
Stood on my feet : about me round I saw 
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 

d^ ^ 



a- -^ 

196 PARADISE LOST. 

And liquid lapse of murmuring streams ; by these 
Creatures that lived, and moved, and walk'd, or flew ; 
Birds on the branches warbling ; all things smiled, 
With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. 
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
With supple joints, as lively vigor led : 
But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
Knew not : to speak I tried, and forthwith spake ; 
My tongue obey'd, and readily could name 
Whate'er I saw. Thou sun, said I, fair light. 
And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay. 
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, 
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell. 
Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here ? 
Not of myself, by some great Maker then, 
In goodness and in power pre-eminent: 
Tell me, how may I know Him, how' adore. 
From whom I have that thus I move and live, 
And feel that I am happier than I know. 
While thus I call'd and stray 'd I knew not whither, 
From where 1 first drew air, and first beheld 
This happy light, when answer none return'd. 
On a green shady bank profuse of flow'rs 
Pensive I sat me down ; there gentle sleep 
First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
My drowsed sense, untroubled, though I thought 
I then was passing to my former state 
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
When suddenly stood at my head a dream, 
Whose inward apparition gently moved 
My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
And lived : one came, methought, of shape divine, 
And said. Thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rise, 
First man, of men innumerable ordain"d 
First father! call'd by thee, I come thy guide 



^ : (b 

PARADISE LOST. 19; 

To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared. 

So saying, by the hand He took me raised 

And over fields and waters, as in air 

Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 

A woody mountain ; whose high top was plain, 

A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees 

Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I saw 

Of earth before scarce pleasant seem'd. Each tree 

Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye 

Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite 

To pluck and eat : whereat I waked, and found 

Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 

Had lively shadow'd : here had new begun 

My wand'ring, had not He, who was my guide 

Up hither, from among the trees appear'd, 

Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe. 

In adoration at His feet I fell 

Submiss : He rcar'd me, and, Whom thou sought'st I am, 

Said mildly, author of all this thou seest 

Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 

This paradise I give thee, count it thine 

To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat : 

Of every tree that in the garden grows 

Eat freely with glad heart ; fear here no dearth : 

But of the Tree whose operation brings 

Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set 

The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith 

Amid the garden by the Tree of Life, 

Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste, 

And shun the bitter consequence: for know, 

The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command 

Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt die ; 

From that day mortal, and this happy state 

Shalt lose, expell'd from hence into a world 

Of woe and sorrow. Sternly He pronounced 

The rigid interdiction, which resounds 



^ 



^ 



^ ^ ^ 

198 PARADISE LOST. 

Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 

Not to incur; but soon His clear aspect 

Return'd and gracious purpose thus renew'd. 

Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth 

To thee and to thy race I give ; as lords 

Possess it, and all things that therein live, 

Or live in sea, or air, beast, fish, and fowl. 

In sign whereof each bird and beast behold 

After their kinds ; I bring them to receive 

From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 

With low subjection ; understand the same 

Of fish within their wat'ry residence. 

Not hither summon'd since they cannot change 

Their element to draw the thinner air. 

As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 

Approaching two and two ; these cow'ring low 

With blandishment, each bird stoop'd on his wing. 

I named them, as they pass'd and understood 

Their nature, with such knowledge God indued 

My sudden apprehension : but in these 

I found not what methought I wanted still ; 

And to the heav'nly vision thus presumed. 

O by what name, for thou above all these, 
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
Surpassest far my naming, how may I 
Adore thee, Author of this universe. 
And all this good to man, for whose well being 
So amply, and with hands so liberal, 
. Thou hast provided all things ? but with me 
I see not who partakes. In solitude 
What happiness, who can enjoy alone, 
Or all enjoying, what contentment find? 
Thus I presumptuous ; and the vision bright. 
As with a smile more brighten'd, thus replied. 

What call'st thou solitude ? Is not the earth 
With various living creatures and the air 



% 



-& 



PAR AD/SB LOST. 199 

Replenish'd, and all these at thy command 

To come and play before thee ? Know'st thou not 

Their language and their ways ? They also know, 

And reason not contemptibly ; with these 

Find pastime, and bear rule ; thy realm is large. 

So spake the universal Lord, and seem'd 
So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, 
And humble deprecation, thus replied. 
Let not my words offend thee, heav'nly Power, 
My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 
Hast thou not made mc here thy substitute, 
And these inferior far beneath me set ? 
Among unequals what society 
Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? 
Which must be mutual, in proportion due, 
Given and received; but in disparity, 
The one intense, the other still remiss, 
Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove 
Tedious alike : of fellowship I speak 
Such as I seek, fit to participate 
All rational delight, wherein the brute 
Cannot be human consort : they rejoice 
Each with their kind, lion with lioness ; 
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined ; 
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl, 
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape; 
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all. 

Whereto the Almighty answer'd, not displeased. 
A nice and subtle happiness I see 
Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 
Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste 
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
What think'st thou then of me, and this my state ? 
Seem I to thee sufficiently possest 
Of happiness, or not ? who am alone 
From all eternity ; for none I know 

^ ^ : ^ 



er 



^ 



200 PARADISE LOST. 

Second to me or like, equal much less. 

How have I then with whom to hold converse, 

Save with the creatures which I made, and those 

To me inferior, infinite descents 

Beneath what other creatures are to thee ? 

He ceased, I lowly answer'd. To attain 
The highth and depth of thy eternal ways 
All human thoughts come short. Supreme of things, 
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thcc 
Is no dcficience found : not so is man, 
But in degree, the cause of his desire 
By conversation with his like to help, 
Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
Should'st propagate, already infinite. 
And through all numbers absolute, though one. 
But man by number is to manifest 
His single imperfection, and beget 
Like of his like, his image multiplied, 
In unity defective, which requires 
Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
Thou in thy secrecy although alone, 
Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not 
Social communication ; yet so pleased 
Canst raise thy creature to what highth thou wilt 
Of union or communion, deified ; 
I by conversing cannot these erect 
From prone, nor in their ways complacence find. 
Thus I embolden'd spake, and freedom used 
Permissive and acceptance found ; which gain'd 
This answer from the gracious Voice Divine. 

Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased, 
And find thee knowing not of beasts alone. 
Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself, 
Expressing well the spirit within thee free. 
My image, not imparted to the brute ; 
Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee 

^^- -. -4" 



f- 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 201 

Good reason was thou freely should'st dislike 
And be so minded still : I, ere thou spak'st, 
Knew it not good for man to be alone, 
And no such company as then thou saw'st 
Intended thee, for trial only brought, 
To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet. 
What next I bring shall please thee, be assured, 
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self. 
Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire. 

He ended, or I heard no more ; for now 
My earthly by His heav'nly overpower'd, 
Which it had long stood under, strain'd to the highth 
In that celestial colloquy sublime. 
As with an object that excels the sense, 
Dazzled, and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd 
By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes.^ 
Mine eyes He closed, but open left the cell 
Of fancy my internal sight, by which 
Abstract as in a trance methought I saw, 
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape 
Still glorious before whom awake I stood ; 
Who stooping open'd my left side, and took 
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
And life-blood streaming fresh ; wide was the wound, 
But suddenly with flesh fill'd up and heal'd. 
The rib he form'd and fashion'd with His hands ; 
Under His forming hands a creature grew 
Manlike, but different sex, so lovely fair, 
That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now 
Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contain'd 
And in her looks, which from that time infused 
Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before. 
And into all things from her air inspired 

1 Gen. ii. 21. 

^ ^ ^ 



^ ^ 

202 PARADJSE LOST. 

The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
She disappcar'd, and left me dark, I waked 
To find her, or for ever to deplore 
Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure. 
When out of hope, behold her, not far off, 
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorn'd 
With what all earth or heaven could bestow 
To make her amiable : on she came, 
Led by her heav'nly Maker, though unseen, 
And guided by his voice, nor uninform'd 
Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites : 
Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, 
In every gesture dignity and love. 
I overjoy'd could not forbear aloud. 

This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd 
Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign. 
Giver of all things fair, but fairest this 
Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see 
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 
Before me ; woman is her name, of man 
Extracted ; for this cause he shall forego 
Father and mother, and to his wife adhere ; 
A.nd they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul. 

She heard me thus, and though divinely brought. 
Yet innocence and virgin modesty. 
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, 
That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won, 
Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retired, 
The more desirable, or to say all, 
Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought. 
Wrought in her so, that seeing me she turn'd ; 
I follow'd her, she what was honor knew. 
And with obsequious majesty approved 
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bow'r 
I led her blushing like the morn : all heav'n, 
And happy constellations on that hour 



PARADISE LOST. 203 

Shed their selectest influence ; the earth 
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill ; 
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs 
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings 
Flung rose, flung odors from the spicy shrub. 
Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
Sung spousal, and bid haste the ev'ning star 
On his hill top to light the bridal lamp. 

Thus I have told thee all my state, and brought 
My story to the sum of earthly bliss. 
Which I enjoy, and must confess to find 
In all things else delight indeed, but such 
As, used or not, works in the mind no change, 
Nor vehement desire ; these delicacies 
I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flow'rs. 
Walks, and the melody of birds : but here 
Far otherwise, transported I behold. 
Transported touch ; here passion first I felt. 
Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else 
Superior anci unmoved, here only weak 
Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance. 
Or nature fail'd in me, and left some part 
Not proof enough such object to sustain. 
Or from my side subducting took perhaps 
More than enough ; at least on her bestow'd 
Too much of ornament, in outward show 
Elaborate, of inward less exact. 
For well I understand in the prime end 
Of nature her th' inferior, in the mind 
And inward faculties, which most excel, 
Irt outward also her resembling less 
His image who made both, and less expressing 
The character of that dominion giv'n 
O'er other creatures : yet when I approach 
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems. 
And in herself complete, so well to know 

^fe—- . ^ 



^ -^ 

204 PARADISE LOST. 

Her own, that what she wills to do or say 
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best: 
All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
Degraded, wisdom in discourse with her 
Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows : 
Authority and reason on her wait, 
As one intended first, not after made 
Occasionally ; and, to consummate all, 
Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat 
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
About her, as a guard angelic placed. 

To whom the angel with contracted brow. 
Accuse not nature, she hath done her part ; 
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
Of wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou 
Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her nigh, 
By attributing overmuch to things 
Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv'st. 
For'what admir'st thou, what transpoits thee so ? 
An outside ? fair no doubt, and worthy well 
Thy cherishing, thy honoring, and thy love, 
Not thy subjection : weigh with her thyself; 
Then value : oft times nothing profits more 
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
Well managed : of that skill the more thou know'st, 
The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
And to realities yield all her shows ; 
Made so adorn for thy delight the more, 
So awful, that with honor thou may'st love 
Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise 
But if the sense of touch whereby mankind 
Is propagated seem such dear delight 
Beyond all other, think the same vouchsafed 
To cattle and each beast; which would not be 
To them made common and divulged, if aught 
Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue 

£^ ^ ^ (^ 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 205 

The soul of man, or passion in him move. 
What higher in her society thou find'st 
Attractive, human, rational, love still : 
In loving thou dost well, in passion not, 
Wherein true love consists not : love refines 
The thoughts, and heart enlarges : hath his seat 
In reason, and is judicious ; is the scale 
By which to heav'nly love thou may'st ascend, 
Not sunk in carnal pleasure ; for whicli cause 
Among the beasts no mate for thee was found. 

To whom thus half abash'd Adam replied. 
Neither her outside form'd so fair, nor aught 
In procreation common to all kinds, 
(Though higher of the genial bed by far 
And with mysterious reverence I deem,) 
So much delights me, as those graceful acts, 
Those thousand decencies that daily flow 
From all her words and actions, mix'd with love 
And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd 
Union of mind, or in us both one soul ; 
Harmony to behold in wedded pair. 
More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear. 
Yet these subject not ; I to thee disclose 
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foil'd. 
Who meet with various objects, for the sense 
Variously representing ; yet still free 
Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou say'st 
Leads up to heav'n, isboth the way and guide ; 
Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask : 
Love not the heav'nly spirits, and how their love 
Express they? by looks only? or do they mix 
Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch ? 

To whom the angel with a smile that glow'd 
Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue, 
Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'st 



^ ^ • 

206 FARAD /SB LOST. 

Us happy, and without love no happiness. 

Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st, 

(And pure thou wert created,) we enjoy 

In eminence, and obstacle find none 

Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars: 

Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace, 

Total they mix, union of pure with pure 

Desiring ; nor restrain'd conveyance need 

As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 

But I can now no more ; the parting sun 

Beyond the earth's green Cape and Verdant Isles,' 

Hesperean^ sets, my signal to depart. 

Be strong, live happy, and love, but first of all 

Him whom to love is to obey,^ and keep 

His great command ; take heed lest passion sway 

Thy judgment to do aught, which else free will 

Would not admit ; thine and of all thy sons 

The weal or woe in thee is placed ; beware. 

I in thy persevering shall rejoice. 

And all the blest: stand fast; to stand or fall 

Free in thine own arbitrement it lies ; 

Perfect within, no outward aid require, 

And all temptation to transgress re])el. 

So saying, he arose ; whom Adam thus 
Follow'd with benediction. Since to part, 
Go, heavenly guest, ethereal messenger. 
Sent from whose sov'reign goodness I adore. 
Gentle to me and affable hath been 
Thy condescension, and shall be honor'd ever 
With grateful memory : thou to mankind 
Be good and friendly still, and oft return. 

So parted they, the angel up to heav'n 
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower. 

1 Cape de Verde and the Cape de Verde Islands. 

2 In the West, where Hesperus, the evening star, appears. — From Newton. 

3 I John V. 3. 




So pai-ted they : the Angel up to heaven 
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower. 



Page 206. 



PARADISE LOST. 207 



BOOK IX. 

The Argument. 

Satan having compassed the earth, with meditated guile returns as a mist by night into 
paradise, and enters into the serpent sleeping. Adam and Eve in the morning go forth to 
their labors, which Eve proposes to divide in several places, each laboring apart: Adam 
consents not, alleging the danger, lest that enemy, of whom they were forewarned, should 
attempt her found alone : Eve, loth to be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her 
goingapart, therather desirous to make trial of her strength : Adam al last yields: the serpent 
finds her alone; his subtle approach, first gazing, then speaking, with much n.ittery extolling 
Eve above all other creatures. Eve, wondering to hear the serpent speak, asks how he 
attained to human speech and such understanding not till now ; the serpent answers, that 
by tasting of a certain tree in the garden he attained both to speech and reason, till then 
void of both : Eve requires him to bring her to that tree, and finds it to be the Tree of 
Knowledge forbidden ; the serpent, now grown bolder, with many wiles and arguments in- 
duces her ut length to eat : she, pleased wit'^ the taste, deliberates a while whether to impart 
thereof to Adam, or not; at last brings him of the fruit, relates what persuaded her to eat 
thereof: Adam at first am;ized, but perceiving her lost, resolves, through vehemence of love, 
to perish with her, and extenuating the trespass eats also of the fruit : the effects thereof in 
them both : they seek to cover their nakedness : then fall to variance and acclisation of one 
another. 

No more of talk where God or Angel guest 
With man, as with his friend, familiar used 
To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
Rural repast, permitting him the while 
Venial discourse unblamed ; I now must change 
These notes to tragic ; foul distrust, and breach 
Disloyal on the part of man, revolt, 
And disobedience : on the part of heav'n 
Now alienated, distance and distaste, 
Anger, and just rebuke, and judgment giv'n, 
That brought into this world a world of woe ; 
Sin and her shadow Death, and misery- 
Death's harbinger ; sad task, yet argument 
Not less but more heroic than the wrath 
Of stern Achilles on his foe^ pursued 

1 Hector. See /Had. 



208 PARADISE LOST. 

Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or rage 

Of Turnus for Lavinia disespoused/ 

Or Neptune's ire or Juno's, that so long 

Perplex'd the Greek^ and Cytherea's son :^ 

If answerable style I can obtain 

Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 

Her nightly visitation unimplored, 

And dictates to me slumb'ring, or inspires 

Easy my unpremeditated verse : 

Since first this subject for heroic song 

Pleased me, long choosing and beginning late f 

Not sedulous by nature to indite 

Wars, hitherto the only argument 

Heroic deem'd, chief mast'ry to dissect 

With long and tedious havock fabled knights 

In battles feign'd ; the better fortitude 

Of patience and heroic martyrdom 

Unsung ; or to describe races and games, 

Or tilting furniture, emblazon'd shields, 

Impresses quaint,'' caparisons and steeds ; 

Bases" and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 

At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast 

Served up in hall with sewers, and seneshals ; 

The skill of artifice or office mean, 

Not that which justly gives heroic name 

To person or to poem. Me of these 

Nor skill'd nor studious higher argument 

Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 

That name, unless an age too late, or cold 

Climate, or years, damp my intended wing 

Depress'd, and much they may, if all be mine, 

Not hers who brings it nightly to my ear. 

1 See /^neid. 2 Ulysses. 3 Eneas. 

< Milton is supposed to have begun his great poem in his forty-eighth year, and finished it 
in his fifty-seventh. It was published in 1667, when the Poet was in his sixtieth year. 
5 Devices on shields. 6 The mantles worn by knights. 




In with the river sunk, and with it rose, 
Satan. 



Page 209. 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 209 

The sun was sunk, and after him the star 

Of Hesperus, whose office is to brirfo- 

Twihght upon the earth, short arbiter 
Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 

Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round : 

When Satan who late fled before the threats 

Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 

In meditated fraud and malice, bent 

On man's destruction, maugrewhat might hap 

Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd. 

By night he fled, and at midnight return'd 

From compassing the earth, cautious of day, 

Since Uriel regent of the sun descried 

His entrance, and forewarn'd the Cherubim 

That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driv'n, 

The space of seven continued nights he rode 

With darkness, thrice the equinoctial line 

He circled, four times cross'd the car of night, 

From pole to pole, traversing each colure -^ 

On the eighth return'd, and on the coast averse 

From entrance or Cherubic watch by stealth 

Found unsuspected way. There was a place. 

Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the change, 

Where Tigris at the foot of paradise 

Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 

Rose up a fountain by the Tree of Life : 

In with the river sunk, and with it rose 

Satan involved in rising mist, then sought 

Where to lie hid : sea he had search 'd, and land 

From Eden over Pontus,- and the pool 

Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob;^ 

Downward as far Antartic ; and in length 

West from Orontes* to the ocean barr'd 



' The colures are two great imaginary circles encompassing the globe from north to south, 
batan moved thus to keep in the shades of x{\g\i\.—From Newton 
= The Euxine. or Black Sea. » Oby, a river of Siberia, near the pole. * A river of Syria. 

14 



^- 



-& 



<b 



2IO PARADISE LOST. 

At Darien •} thence to the land where flows 
Ganges and Indus r thus the orb he roam'd 
With narrow search ; and with inspection deep 
Consider'd every creature, which of all 
Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found 
The serpent subtlest beast of all the field.-^ 
Him after long debate, irresolute 
Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 
Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
From sharpest sight: for in the wily snake 
Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark. 
As from his wit and native subtlety 
Proceeding, which in other beasts observed 
Doubt might beget of diabolic pow'r 
Active within beyond the sense of brute. 
Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief 
His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd. 
O earth, how like to heav'n, if not preferr'd 
More justly; seat worthier of gods, as built 
With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
For what God after better worse would build ? 
Terrestrial heav'n, danced round by other heav'ns 
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems. 
In thee concentring all their precious beams 
Of sacred influence. As God in heav'n 
Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
Centring receiv'st from all those orbs : in thee, 
Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
Of creatures animate with gradual life 
Of growth, sense, reason, all summ'd up in man. 
WMth what delight could I have walk'd thee round, 



1 The Isthmus of Panama. "^ India. ^ Gen. iii. i. 



4 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 211 

If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 

Of hill and valley, rivers, woods, and plains, 

Now land, now sea, and shores with forest crown'd. 

Rocks, dens, and caves ! hut I in none of these 

Find place or refuge ; and the more I see 

Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 

Torment within me, as from the hateful siege 

Of contraries ; all good to me becomes 

Bane, and in heav'n much worse would be my state. 

But neither here seek I, no nor in heav'n 

To dwell, unless by mast'ring heav'n's Supreme; 

Nor hope to be myself less miserable 

By what I seek, but others to make such 

As I, though thereby worse to me redound: 

For only in destroying I find ease 

To my relentless thoughts ; and him destroy'd, 

Or won to what may work his utter loss. 

For whom all this was made, all this will soon 

Follow, as to him link'd in weal or woe; 

In woe then ; that destruction wide may range. 

To me shall be the glory sole among 

The infernal powers, in one day to have marr'd 

What He, Almighty styled, six nights and days 

Continued making, and who knows how long 

Before had been contriving, though perhaps 

Not longer than since I in one night freed 

From servitude inglorious well nigh half 

Th' angelic name, and thinner left the throng 

Of His adoiers. He to be avenged, 

And to repair His numbers thus impair'd, 

Whether such virtue spent of old now fail'd 

More angels to create, if they at least 

Are His created, or to spite us more, 

Determined to advance into our room 

A creature form'd of earth, and him endow, 

Exalted from so ba^ original, 



^^-4" 



S ■ -Qy 

212 PARADISE LOST. 

With heav'nly spoils, our spoils : whit he decreed 
He effected ; man he made, and for him built 
Magnificent this world, and earth his seat. 
Him lord pronounced, and, O indignity! 
Subjected to his service angel wings,' 
And flaming ministers, to watch and tend 
Their earthy charge. Of these the vigilance 
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapp'd in .nist 
Of midnight vapor, glide obscure, and pry 
In every bush and brake, where hap may find 
The serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds 
To hide me, and the dark intent 1 bring. 
O foul descent! that I, who erst contended 
With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrain'd 
Into a beast, and mix'd with bestial slime, ^ 

This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
That to the highth of deity aspired ; 
But what will not ambition and revenge 
Descend to ? who aspires must down as low 
As high he soar'd, obnoxious first or last 
To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils : 
Let it ; I reck not, so it light well aim'd, 
Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
Provokes my envy, this new favorite 
Of heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite. 
Whom us the more to spite his Maker raised 
From dust : spite then with spite is best repaid. 
So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, 
Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 
His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
The serpent : him fast sleeping soon he found, 
In labyrinth of many a round self-roll'd, 
His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles : 

1 Psalm civ. 4. * 



^ (b 

PARADISE LOST. 213 

Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 

Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb. 

Fearless, unfear'd he slept. In at his mouth 

The devil enter'd, and his brutal sense. 

In heart or head, possessing soon inspired 

With act intelligential ; but his sleep 

Disturb'd not, waiting close th' approach of morn. 

Now, when as sacred light began to dawn 
m Eden on the humid flo»v'rs, that breathed 
Their morning incense, when all things that breathe 
From th' earth's great altar send up silent praise 
To the Creator and His nostrils fill 
With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, 
And join'd their vocal worship to the choir 
Of creatures wanting voice; that done partake 
The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs : 
Then commune, how that day they best may ply 
Their growing work ; for much their work outgrew 
The hands' dispatch of two, gard'ning so wide. 

And Eve first to her husband thus began. 
Adam, well may we labor still to dress 

This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and fiow'r, 

Our pleasant task enjoin'd ; but till more hands' 

Aid us, the work under our labor grows. 

Luxurious by restraint ; what wc by day 

Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind. 

One night or two with wanton growth derides, 

Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise,' 

Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present ; 

Let us divide our labors, thou where choice 

Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 

The woodbine round this arbor, or direct 

The clasping ivy where to climb, while I 

In yonder spring ^ of roses intermix'd 



1 A spring is a small coppice or thicket. 



^^ 



4 



4^ ^ 

214 PARADISE LOST. 

With myrtle find what to redress till noon : 
For while so near each other thus all day 
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
Casual discourse draw on ; which intermits 
Our day's work, brought to little, though begun 
Early, and the hour of supper comes unearn'd. 
To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd. 
Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
Compare above all living creatures dear, 
Well hast thou motion'd, well thy thoughts employ'd. 
How we might best fulfil the work which here 
God hath assign'd us, nor of me shall pass 
Unpraised ; for nothing lovelier can be found 
' In woman, than to study household good, 
And good works in her husband to promote. 
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
Labor, as to debar us when we need 
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
Of looks and smiles ; for smiles from reason flow. 
To brute denied, and are of love the food. 
Love not the lowest end of human life. 
For not to irksome toil, but to delight. 
He made us, and delight to reason join'd 
These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
As wc need walk, till younger hands ere long 
Assist us : but if much converse perhaps 
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield : 
For solitude sometimes is best society, 
And short retirement urges sweet return. 
But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
Befall thee sever'd from me ; for thou know'st 
What hath been warn'd us, what malicious foe 
Envying our happiness, and of his own 



% 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 215 

Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 

By sly assault ; and somewhere nigh at hand 

Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 

His wish and best advantage, us asunder, 

Hopeless to circumvent us join'd, where each 

To other speedy aid might lend at need ;^ 

Whether his first design be to withdraw 

Our fealty from God, or to disturb 

Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss 

Enjoy'd by us excites his envy more ; 

Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 

That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects. 

The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks, 

Safest and seemliest by her husband stays. 

Who guards her, or with her the worst endures. 

To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
With sweet austere composure thus replied. 

Offspring of heav'n and earth, and all earth's lord. 
That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
Our ruin, both by thee inform'd I learn, 
And from the parting angel overheard, 
As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
Just then return'd at shut of evening flow'rs. 
But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt 
To God or thee, because we have a foe 
May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
His violence thou fear'st not, being such, 
As we, not capable of death or pain, 
Can either not receiv^e, or can repel. 
His fraud is then thy fear, which plain infers 
Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love 
Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced : 
Thoughts, which how found they harbor in thy breast, 

1 Eccles. iv. 9, 10. 

^ ^ ^ 



^ 



2i6 PARADISE LOST. 

Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear ? 

To whom with heaHng words Adam replied. 
Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve, 
For such thou art, from sin and blame entire : 
Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 
Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
Th' attempt itself, intended by our foe : 
For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
The tempted with dishonor foul, supposed 
Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
Against temptation. Thou thyself with scorn 
And anger wouldst resent the ofifer'd wrong, 
Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then, 
If such affront I labor to avert 
From thee alone, which on us both at once 
The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare. 
Or daring, first on me th' assault shall light. 
Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn ; 
Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 
Angels; nor think superfluous others' aid. 
I from the influence of thy looks receive 
Access in every virtue, in thy sight 
More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were 
Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking oti, 
Shame to be overcome or over-reach'd, 
Would utmost vigor raise, and raised unite. 
Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel 
When I am present, and thy trial choose 
With me, best witness of thy virtue tried ? 

So spake domestic Adam in his care 
And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought 
Less attributed to her faith sincere, 
Thus her reply with accent sweet renew'd. 

If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
In narrow circuit straiten'd by a foe, 
Subtle or violent, we not endued 



f-" 



■^ 



PARADISE LOST. 217 

Single with like defence, wherever met, 

How are we happy, still in fear of harm ? 

But harm precedes not sin : only our foe 

Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem 

Of our integrity : his foul esteem 

Sticks no dishonor on our front, but turns 

Foul on himself; then wherefore shunn'd or fear'd 

By us? who rather double honor gain 

From his surmise proved false, find peace within, 

Favor from heav'n, our witness, from th' event. 

And what is faith, love, virtue, unassay'd 

Alone, without exterior help sustain'd ? 

Let us not then suspect our happy state 

Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 

As not secure to single or combined. 

Frail is our happiness, if this be so. 

And Eden were no Eden thus exposed. 

To whom thys Adam fervently replied. 
O woman, best are all things as the will 
Of God ordain'd them ; His creating hand 
Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
Of all that He created, much less man, 
Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
Secure from outward force; within himself 
The danger lies, yet lies within his power : 
Against his \v\\\ he can receive no harm. 
But God left free the will, for what obeys 
Reason is free, and reason He made right ; 
But bid her well beware, and still erect, 
Lest by some fair appearing good surprized 
She dictate false, and misinform the will 
To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoins. 
That I should mind thee oft, and mind thou me. 
Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve. 
Since reason not impossibly may meet 



a- -^ 

218 PARADISE LOST. 

Some specious object by the foe suborn'd, 

And fall into deception unaware, 

Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warn'd. 

Seek not temptation then, wliich to avoid 

Were better, and most likely, if from me 

Thou sever not : trial will come unsought. 

Wouldst thou approve .thy constancy, approve 

First thy obedience ; th' other who can know ? 

Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? 

But if thou think trial unsought may find 

Us both securer than thus warn'd thou seem'st, 

Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more ; 

Go in thy native innocence, rely 

On what thou hast of virtue, summon all, 

For God towards thee hath done His part, do thine. 

So spake the patriarch of mankind, but Eve 
Persisted, yet submiss, though last, replied. 

With thy permission then, and thuj forewarn'd. 
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
Touch'd only, that our trial, when least sought, 
May find us both perhaps far less prepared, 
The willinger I go, nor much expect 
A foe so proud will first the weaker seek ; 
So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse. 

Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand 
Soft she withdrew ; and like a wood-nymph light. 
Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's^ train. 
Betook her to the groves, but Delia's self 
In gait surpass'd and goddess-like deport. 
Though not as she with bow and quiver arm'd, 
But with such gard'ning tools as art, yet rude, 
Guiltless of fire had form'd, or angels brought, 
To Pales,^ or Pomona,^ thus adorn'd, 
Likest she seem'd Pomona when she fled 

1 A surname of Diana, because born in Delos. 2 Goddess of sheepfolds. ^ Goddess of fruits. 



^ a? 

PARADISE LOST. 219 

Vertumnus/ or to Ceres in her prime, 

Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 

Her long with ardent look his eye pursued 

Delighted, but desiring more her stay : 

Oft he to her his charge of quick return 

Repeated, she to him as oft engaged 

To be return'd by noon amid the bow'r, 

And all things in best order to invite 

Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 

O much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, 

Of thy presumed return ! event perverse i 

Thou never from that hour in paradise 

Found'st either sweet repast, or sound repose ; 

Such ambush hid among sweet flow'rs and shades 

Waited with hellish rancor imminent 

To intercept thy way, or send thee back 

Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 

For now, and since first break of dawn the fiend, 

Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, 

And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 

The only two of mankind, but in them 

The whole included race, his purposed prey. 

In bow'r and field he sought, where any tuft 

Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay 

Their tendance or plantation for delight, 

By fountain or by shady rivulet 

He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find 

Eve separate ; he wish'd, but not with hope 

Of what so seldom chanced, when to his wish. 

Beyond his hope. Eve separate he spies, 

Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 

Half spied, so thick the roses brushing round 

About her glow'd, oft stooping to support 

Each flow'r of slender stalk, whose head though gay 

I The god of orc'.iards, who assumed many sliapes to win Pomona. 

^ ^ 



^ -^ 

220 PARADISE LOST. 

Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold, 
Hung drooping unsustain'd; them she upstays 
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
Herself, though fairest unsupported flow'r, 
From her best prop so far. and storm so nigh. 
Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm. 
Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 
Among thick-woven arborets and flow'rs 
Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve : 
Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd 
Or of revived Adonis,^ or renown'd 
Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son,^ 
Or that, not mystic, where the Sapient king 
Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse.^ 
Much he the place admired, the person more. 
As one who long in populous city pent 
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe 
Among the pleasant villages and farms 
Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight, 
The smell of grain, or tedded grass,'* or kine, 
Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound ; 
If chance with nymph-like step fair virgin pass, 
What pleasing seem'd, for her now pleases more, 
She most, and in her look sums all delight ; 
Such pleasure took the serpent to behold 
This flow'ry plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
Thus early, thus alone : her heav'nly form 
Angelic, but more soft and feminine. 
Her graceful innocence, her every air 
Of gesture or least action, over awed 
His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 

1 At the request of Venus, he was restored to life. 

2 Ulysses. For description of the gardens of Alcinous see the "Odyssey." 

3 Gardens of Solomon. * Hay spread out. 



^ 

PARADISE LOST. 221 

His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought. 

That space the evil one abstracted stood 

From his own evil, and for the time remain'd 

Stupidly good, of enmity disarm'd, 

Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge ; 

But the hot hell that always in him burns, 
• Though in mid heav'n, soon ended his delight. 

And tortures him now more, the more he sees 

Of pleasure not for him ordain'd : then soon 

Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thouglits 

Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites. 

Thoughts, whither have ye led me, with what sweet 

Compulsion thus transported to forget 

What hither brought us ? hate, not love, nor hope 

Of paradise for hell, hope here to taste 

Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy. 

Save what is in destroying : other joy 

To me is lost Then let me not let pass 

Occasion which now smiles ; behold alone 

The woman opportune to all attempts, 

Her husband, (for I view far round,) not nigh. 

Whose higher intellectual more I shun. 

And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 

Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould ; 

Foe not informidable ! exempt from wound, 

I not: so much hath hell debased, and pain 

Infeebled me, to what I was in heav'n. 
, She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods, 

Not terrible, though terror be in love, 

And beauty, not approach'd by stronger hate, 

Hate stronger under show of love well feign'd ; 

The way which to her ruin now I tend. 
So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed 

In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve 

Address'd his way, not with indented wave, 

Prone on the ground, as since, but on h\e rear, 



a- -^ 

222 PARADISE LOST. 

Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd 
Fold above fold a surging maze, his head 
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes ; 
With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect 
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape, 
And lovely, never since of serpent kind 
Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed 
Hermione and Cadmus,^ or the God^ 
In Epidaurus ; nor to which transform'd 
Ammonian^ Jove or Capitoline * was seen. 
He with Olympias, this with her who bore 
Scipio the highth of Rome. With tract oblique 
At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd 
To interrupt, side-long he works his way. 
As when a ship by skillful steersman wrought 
Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail : 
So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
To lure her eye ; she, busied, heard the sound 
Of rustling leaves, but minded not as used 
To such disport before her through the field, 
From every beast, more duteous at her call, 
Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 
He bolder now uncall'd before her stood; 
But as in gaze admiring: oft he bow'd 
His turret crest, and sleek enamell'd neck, 
Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod. 
His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length 

1 Cadmus, who introduced letters into Greece, and Hermione his wife. They were 
changed by serpents into serpents. 

^ Esculapius, the god of medicine. He is said to have taken the form of a serpent when 
he appeared at Rome during a pestilence. — From Warton. 

3 Lybian. 

* Roman. These lines relate to the fable of Jupiter being the father of Alexander the 
Great, and of Scipio also. All these images picture the magnificence of the serpent's form. 

ds^ -^ 



a 07 

PARADISE LOST. 223 

The eye of Eve to mark his play ; he glad 
Of her attention gain'd, with serpent tongue 
Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 
His fraudulent temptation thus began. 

Wonder not, sov'reign mistress, if perhaps 
Thou canst, who art sole wonder, much less arm 
Thy looks, the heav'n of mildness, with disdain, 
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
Insatiate, I thus single, nor have fear'd 
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair. 
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 
With ravishment beheld, there best beheld 
Where universally admired : but here 
In this enclosure wild, these beasts among. 
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 
Who sees thee ? and what is one ? who shouldst be seen 
A Goddess among Gods, adored and served 
By angels numberless, thy daily train. 

So glozed the tempter, and his proem tuned ; 
Into the heart of Eve his words made way. 
Though at the voice much marvelling : at length 
Not unamazed she thus in answer spake. 
What may this mean ? Language of man pronounced 
By tongue of brute, and human sense express'd ? 
The first at least of these I thought denied 
To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
Created mute to all articulate sound ; 
The latter I demur, for in their looks 
Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. 
Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the field 
I knew, but not with human voice endued ; 
Redouble then this miracle, and say. 
How cam'st thou speakable of mute, and how 

(^ _^i 



s- -^ 

224 PARADISE LOST. 

To me so friendly grown above the rest 
Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight ? 
Say, for such wonder claims attention due. 

To whom the guileful tempter thus replied. 
Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve, 
Easy to me it is to tell thee all 

What thou command'st, and right thou shouldst be obey'd. 
I was at first as other beasts that graze 
The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
As was my food, nor aught but food discern'd 
Or sex, and apprehended nothing high : 
Till on a day roving the field, I chanced 
A goodly tree far distant to behold 
Loaden with fruit of fairest colors mixt, 
Ruddy and gold : I nearer drew to gaze ; 
When from the boughs a savory odor blown, 
Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense 
Than smell of sweetest lennel, or the teats 
Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at ev'n, 
Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 
Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, 
Powerful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent 
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
About the mossy trunk I wound me soon, 
For high from ground the b\-anches would require 
Thy utmost reach or Adam's: round the tree 
All other beasts that saw with like desire. 
Longing and envying, stood, but could not reach. 
Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
I spared not, for such pleasure till that hour 
At feed or fountain never had I found. 
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
Strange alteration in me, to degree 

^ ^ 



s — 



^- 



^ ^ -€7 

PARADISE LOST. 225 

Of reason in my inward powers and speech 

Wanted not long, though to this shape retain'd. 

Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 

I turn'd my thoughts, and with capacious mind 

Consider'd all things visible in heav'n, 

Or earth, or middle, all things fair and good ; 

But all that fair and good in thy divine 

Semblance and in thy beauty's heav'nly ray 

United I beheld ; no fair to thine 

Equivalent or second, which compell'd 

Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 

And gaze, and worship thee of right declared 

Sov'reign of creatures, universal dame. 
So talk'd the spirited sly snake ; and Eve 

Yet more amazed unwary thus replied. 

Serpent, thy overpraising, leaves in doubt 
The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved : 
But say, where grows the tree ? from hence how far ? 
For many are the trees of God that grow 
In paradise, and various, yet unknown ' 
To us, in such abundance lies our choice. 
As leaves a greater store of fruit untouch'd, 
Sill hanging incorruptible, till men 
Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
Help to disburden nature of her birth. 

To whom the wily adder, blithe and glad. 
Empress, the way is ready, and not long, 
Beyond a row of myrtles on a flat. 
Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
Of blowing myrrh and balm : if thou accept 
My conduct, I can bring thee hither soon. 

Lead then, said Eve. He leading swiftly roll'd 
In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
To mischief swift : hope elevates, and joy 
Brightens his crest : as when a wand'ring fire 
Compact of unctuous vapor, which the night 

^ -^ 



^ 

226 PARADISE LOST. 

Condenses, and the cold environs round, 

Kindled through agitation to a flame, 

Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends, 

Hovering and blazing with delusive light, 

Misleads th' amazed night-wanderer from his way 

To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, 

There swallow'd up and lost, from succor far : 

So glister'd the dire snake, and into fraud 

Led Eve our credulous mother to the tree 

Of prohibition, root of all our woe : 

Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. 

Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither. 
Fruitless to mc, though fruit be here to excess. 
The credit of whose virtue rest with thee ; 
Wond'rous indeed, if cause of such effects. 
But of this tree we may not taste nor touch, 
God so commanded ; and left that command 
Sole daughter of his voice ; the rest, we live 
Law to ourselves, our reason is our law. 

To whom the tempter guilefully replied. 
Indeed ! hath God then said that of the fruit 
Of all these garden trees ye shall not eat, 
Yet lords declared of all in earth or air ? 

To whom thus Eve yet sinless. Of the fruit 
Of each tree in the garden we may eat. 
But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
The garden, God hath said, ye shall not eat 
Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die. 

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
The tempter, but with show of zeal and love 
To man, and indignation at his wrong. 
New part puts on, and as to passion moved, 
Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely, and in act 
Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
As when of old some orator renown'd 
In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 

fe- ^ ^ -4^ 



^ 



-^ 



PARADISE LOST. 227 

Flourish'd, since mute, to some great cause address'd 

Stood in himself collected, while each part, 

Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue ; 

Sometimes in highth began, as no delay 

Of preface brooking through his zeal of right : 

So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown, 

The tempter all impassion'd thus began. 

O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving plant, 
Mother of science, now I feel thy power 
Within me clear, not only to discern 
Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. 
Queen of this universe ! do not believe 
Those rigid threats of death; ye shall not die:^ 
How should ye ? by the fruit ? it gives you life 
To knowledge : by the threatener? look on me. 
Me who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live. 
And life more perfect have attain'd than fate 
Meant me, by vent'ring higher than my lot. 
Shall that be shut to man, which to the beast 
Is open? or will God incense His ire 
For such a petty trespass, and not praise 
Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 
Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead 
To happier life, knowledge of good and evil ? 
Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil 
Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'd ? 
God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just ; 
Not just, not God ; not fear'd then, nor obey'd : 
Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
Why then was this forbid? Why but to awe, 
Why but to keep ye low and ignorant, 
His worshippers; he knows that in the day 

1 Gen. iii. 4. 

^ ^ 



228 PARADISE LOST. 

Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear, 
Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
Open'd and clear'd, and ye shall be as Gods, 
Knowing both good and evil, as they know. 
That ye should be as Gods, since I as man, 
Internal man, is but proportion meet, 
I of brute, human, ye of human, Gods. 
So shall ye die perhaps, by putting off 
Human, to put on Gods : death to be wish'd, 
Though threaten'd, which no worse than this can bring. 
. And what are Gods that man may not become 
As they, participating godlike food ? 
The Gods are first, and that advantage use 
On our belief, that all from them proceeds ; 
I question it, for this fair earth I see, 
Warm'd by the sun, producing every kind, 
Them nothing : if they all things who enclosed 
Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 
That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains 
Wisdom without their leave ? and wherein lies 
Th' offence, that man should thus attain to know ? 
What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
Impart against his will if all be his ? 
Or is it envy ; and can envy dwell 
In heav'nly breasts ? These, these, and many more 
Causes import your need of this fair fruit. 
Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste. 
He ended, and his words replete with guile 
Into her heart too easy entrance won : 
Fix'd on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 
Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound 
Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregn'd 
With reason, to her seeming, and with truth : 
Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
An eager appetite, raised by the smell 
So savory of that fruit, which with desire. 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 229 

Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
Solicited her longing eye; yet first 
Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused. 

Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits. 
Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired, 
Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay 
Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise : 
Thy praise He also who forbids thy use 
Conceals not from us, naming thee the Tree 
Of Knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil ; 
Forbids us then to taste, but His forbidding 
Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
By thee communicated, and our want : 
For good unknown sure is not had, or had 
And yet unknown is as not had at all. 
In plain then, what forbids He but to know? 
Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise ? 
Such prohibitions bind not. But if death 
Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
Our inward freedom ? In the day we eat 
Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. 
How dies the serpent ? he hath eaten and lives, 
And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, 
Irrational till then. For us alone 
Was death invented ? or to us denied 
This intellectual food, for beasts reserved ? 
For beasts it seems : yet that one beast which first 
Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy 
The good befall'n him, author unsu.spect. 
Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 
What fear I then, rather what know to fear 
Under this ignorance of good and evil, 
Of God or death, of law or penalty ? 
Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 

a^ 



-^ 



230 PARADISE LOST. 

Of virtue to make wise : what hinders then 
/ To reach, and feed at once both body and mind ? 

I So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 

I Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: 

i Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat 

Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe, 
I That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 

' The guilty serpent, and well might, for Eve 

\ Intent now only on her taste, naught else 

'■ Regarded, such delight till then, as seem'd, 

\ In fruit she never tasted, whether true 

\ Or fancied so, through expectation high 

i Of knowledge; nor was Godhead from her thought. 

Greedily she ingorged without restraint, 
:j And knew not eating death : satiate at length, 

\ And highten'd as with wine, jocund and boon, 

f Thus to herself she pleasingly began. 

\ O sov'reign, virtuous, precious of all trees 

I In Paradise, of operation blest 

I To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 

i| And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 

I Created : but henceforth my early care, 

\ Not without song, each morning, and due praise 

\ Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 

I Of thy full branches offer'd free to all ; 

Till dieted by thee I grow mature 
1 In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know ; 

Though others envy what they cannot give; 
For had the gift been theirs it had not here 
Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe, 
Best guide ;' not following thee I had remain'd 
In ignorance ; thou open'st wisdom's way, 
And giv'st access, though secret she retire, 
And I perhaps am secret: heav'n is high. 



^ 



1 The serpent. 



4 




Back to the thicket shmk 
The guilty serpent. 



ge 230, 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 231 

High and remote to see from thence distinct 
Each thing on earth ; and other care perhaps 
May have diverted from continual watch 
Our great Forbidder, safe with all his spies 
About him. But to Adam in what sort 
Shall I appear ? shall I to him make known 
As yet my change, and give him to partake 
Full happiness with me, or rather not, 
But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 
Without co-partner ? so to add what wants 
In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
And render me more equal, and perhaps, 
A thing not undesirable, sometime 
Superior ; for inferior who is free ? 
This may be well : but what if God have seen, 
And death ensue ? then I shall be no more, 
And Adam wedded to another Eve 
Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct . 
A death to think. Confirm'd then I resolve, 
Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe: 
So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
I could endure ; without him live no life. 

So saying, from the tree her step she turn'd, 
But first low reverence done, as to the power 
That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
From nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while, 
Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
Of choicest flow'rs a garland to adorn 
Her tresses, and her rural labors crown, 
As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen. 
Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
Solace in her return, so long delay'd; 
Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill. 
Misgave him ; he the faltering measure felt; 
And forth to meet her went, the way she took 



a -^ 

232 PARADISE LOST. 

That ir.orn when first they parted. By the Tree 
Of Knowledge he must pass, there he her met, 
Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand 
A bough of fairest fruit that downy smiled, 
New gather'd, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
To him she hasted, in her face excuse 
Came prologue, and apology too prompt. 
Which with bland words at will she thus address'd. 

Hast thou not wonder'd, Adam, at my stay? 
Thee I have miss'd, and thought it long, deprived 
Thy presence, agony of love till now 
Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more 
Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought, 
The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear : 
This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 
Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 
Op'ning the way, but of divine effect 
To open eyes, and make them Gods who taste: 
And hath been tasted such. The serpent wise, 
Or not restrain'd as we, or not obeying. 
Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become 
Not dead, as we are threaten'd, but thenceforth 
Endued with human voice and human sense, 
Reasoning to admiration, and with me 
Persuasively hath so prevail'd, that I 
Have also tasted, and have also found 
Th' effects to correspond ; opener mine eyes, 
Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 
And growing up to Godhead ; which for thee 
Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. 
For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss. 
Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 
Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
May join us, equal joy, as equal love ; 
Lest thou not tasting, different degree 

^ 



a- 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 

Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
Deity for thee, when fate will not permit. 

Thus Eve, with countenance blithe, her story told, 
But in her cheek distemper flushing glow'd. 
On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd ; 
From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve 
Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed : 
Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
First to himself he inward silence broke. 

O fairest of creation, last and best 
Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd 
Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd, 
Holy, divine, good, amiable or sweet! 
How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, 
Defaced, deflower'd, and now to death devote ! 
Rather how hast thou yielded to transgress 
The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
The sacred fruit forbidden ! some cursed fraud 
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown. 
And me with thee hath ruin'd, for with thee 
Certain my resolution is to die : 
How can I live without thee? how forego 
Thy sweet converse and love so dearly join'd, 
To live again in these wild woods forlorn ? 
Should God create another Eve, and I 
Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
Would never from my heart ; no, no, I feel 
The link of nature draw me ; flesh of flesh, 
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. 

So having said, as one from sad dismay 
Recomforted, and other thoughts disturb'd 
Submitting to what seem'd remediless. 



233 



% 



-^ 



^ -^ 

234 PARADISE LOST. 

Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turn'd. 

Bold deed thou hast presumed, advent' rous Eve, 
And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared, 
Had it been only coveting to eye 
That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence, 
Much more to taste it under ban to touch. 
But past who can recall, or done undo ? 
Not God omnipotent, nor Fate, yet so 
Terhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact 
Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit, 
Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 
Made common and unhallow'd ere our taste; 
Nor yet on him found deadly, he yet lives, 
Lives, as thou said'st, and gains to live as man 
Higher degree of life, inducement strong 
To us, as likely tasting to attain 
Proportional ascent,, which cannot be 
But to be Gods, or angels, demigods. 
Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
Though threat'ning, will in earnest so destroy 
Us His prime creatures, dignified so high. 
Set over all His works, which in our fall, 
For us created, needs with us must fail, 
Dependent made ; so God shall uncreate, 
Be frustrate, do, undo, and labor lose. 
Not well conceived of God ; who, though His power 

Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 

Us to abolish, lest the adversary 

Triumph and say: Fickle their state whom God 

Most favors, who can please Him long? Mc first 

He ruin'd, now mankind ; whom will he next ? 

Matter of scorn, not to be given the foe. 

However, I with thee have fix'd my lot, 

Certain to undergo like doom ; if death 

Consort with thee, death is to me as life ; 

So forcible within my heart I feel 

4— ^ 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 235 

The bond of nature draw me to my own, 
My own in thee, for what thou art is mine ; 
Our state cannot be sever'd, we are one, 
One flesh ; to lose thee were to lose myself 

So Adam, and thus Eve to him replied. 
O glorious trial of exceeding love, 
Illustrious evidence, example high, 
Engaging me to emulate, but, short 
Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
Adam, from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 
And gladly of our union hear thee speak. 
One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
This day affords, declaring thee resolved. 
Rather than death or aught than death more dread 
Shall separate us link'd in love so dear, 
To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, 
Whose virtue, for of good still good proceeds. 
Direct, or by occasion, hath presented 
This happy trial of thy love, which else 
So eminently never had been known. 
Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die 
Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 
Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assured 
Remarkably so late of thy so true, 
So faithful love unequall'd ; but I feel 
Far otherwise the event, not death but life 
Augmented, open'd eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
Hath touch'd my sense, flat seems to this and harsh. 
On my experience, Adam, freely taste. 
And fear of death deliver to the winds. 

So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 
Tenderly wept, much won that he his love 

^ ^ 



236 PARADISE LOST. 

Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 

Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 

In recompence, for such compliance bad 

Such recompense best merits, from the bough 

She gave him of that fair, enticing fruit 

With liberal hand; he scrupled not to cat 

Against his better knowledge, not deceived,' 

But fondly overcome with female charm. 

Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 

In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan. 

Sky lour'd, and, mutt'ring thunder, some sad drops 

Wept at completing of the mortal sin 

Original; while Adam took no thought, 

Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate 

Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe 

Him with her loved society, that now, 

As with new wine intoxicated both, 

They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 

Divinity within them breeding wings 

Wherewith to scorn the earth ; but that false fruit 

Far other operation first display'd. 

Carnal desire inflaming; he on Eve 

Began to cast lascivious eyes, she him 

As wantonly repaid ; in lust they burn ; 

Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move. 

Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
And elegant, of sapience no small part, 
Since to each meaning savor we apply. 
And palate call judicious ; I the praise 
Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd. 
Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd 
From this delightful fruit, nor known till now 
True relish, tasting ; if such pleasure be 
In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd, 



1 I Tim. ii. 14. 



^ 



a 07 

PARADISE LOST. 237 

For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
But come, so well refresh'd, now let us play, 
As meet is, after such delicious fare ; 
For never did thy beauty, since the day 
I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned 
With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now 
Than ever, bounty of this virtuous tree. 

So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
Of amorous intent, well understood 
Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
Her hand he seized, and to a shady bank, 
Thick overhead with verdant roof imbower'd. 
He led her nothing loth ; flowers were the couch, 
Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 
And hyacinth, earth's freshest softest lap. 
There they their fill of love and love's disport 
Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 
The solace of their sin, till dewy sleep 
Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. 
Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 
That with exhilarating vapor bland 
About their spirits had play'd, and inmost powers 
Made err, was now exhaled, and grosser sleep 
Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
Encumber'd now had left them, up they rose 
As from unrest, and, each the other viewing, 
Soon found their eyes how open'd, and their minds 
How darken'd : innocence, that as a veil 
Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone, 
Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
And honor from about them ; naked left 
To guilty shame ; he cover'd, but his robe 
Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong 
Herculean Samson from the harlot-lap 
Of Philistean Dalilah, and waked 

^ -4 



^ -^ 

238 PARADISE LOST. 

Shorn of his strength ; they destitute and bare 
Of all their virtue : silent, and in face 
Confounded, long they sate, as strucken mute, 
Till Adam, though not less than Eve abash'd, 
At length gave utterance to these words constrain'd. 

O Eve, in evil hour thou did'st give ear 
To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
To counterfeit man's voice, true in our fall 
False in our promised rising; since our eyes 
Open'd we find indeed, and find we know 
Both good and evil, good lost, and evil got, 
Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know, 
Which leaves us naked thus, of honor void, 
Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 
Our wonted ornaments now soil'd and stain'd. 
And in our faces evident the signs 
Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store, 
Ev'n shame, the last of evils ; of the first 
Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 
Henceforth of God or angel, erst with joy 
And rapture so oft beheld ? those heav'nly shapes 
Will dazzle now this earthly, with their blaze 
Insufferably bright. O might I here 
In solitude live savage, in some glade 
Obscured, where highest woods, impenetrable 
To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad. 
And brown as evening : cover me, ye pines, 
Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs 
Hide me, where I may never see them more 
But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
What best may for the present serve to hide 
The parts of each from other, that seem most 
To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen ; 
Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sew'd 
And girded on our loins, may cover round 
Those middle parts, that this new comer, shame, 

%- ^ 





Nor only tears 
Rained at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
Began to rise. 



m\ 



mtmmmmgm^BmmmmmimmHHm 



^ 6b 

PARADISE LOST. 239 

There sit not, and reproach us as unclean. 

So counsell'd he, and both together went 
Into the thickest wood ; there soon they chose 
The figtree, not that kind for fruit renown'd, 
But such as at this day to Indians known 
In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms 
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade ^ 
High overarch'd, and echoing walks between; 
There oft the Indian herdsman shunning heat 
Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
At loopholes cut through thickest shade. Those leaves 
They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, 
And with what skill they had together sew'd, 
To gird their waist, vain covering, if to hide 
Their guilt and dreaded shame ; O how unlike 
To that first naked glory ! Such of late 
Columbus found the American so girt 
With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild 
Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
Thus fenced, and as they thought, their shame in part 
Cover'd, but not at rest or ease of mind. 
They sat them down to weep, nor only tears 
Rain'd at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 
Mistrust, suspicion, discord, and shook sore 
Their inward state of mind, calm region once 
And full of peace, now tost and turbulent : 
For understanding ruled not, and the will 
Heard not her lore, both in subjection now 
To sensual appetite, who from beneath 
Usurping. over sov'reign reason claim'd 
Superior sway : from thus distemper'd breast 

1 The Indian fig, called Ficus Indica by botanists, or Banyan. The largest known nearly 
covers an island on the Nerbudda. It is 2,000 feet round, and has 1,300 trunks. 

<^ : -4 



240 PARADISE LOST. 

Adam, estrang;ed in look and alter'd style, 
Speech intermitted thus to Eve renew'd. 

Would thou hadst hearken'd to my words, and stay'd 
With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
Desire of wand'ring this unhappy morn 
I know not whence possess'd thee ; we had then 
Remain'd still happy, not, as now, despoil'd 
Of all our good, shamed, naked, miserable. 
Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 
The faith they owe ; when earnestly they seek 
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail. 

To whom soon moved with touch of blame thus Eve. 
What words have pass'd thy lips, Adam severe ? 
Imput'st thou that to my default, or will 
Of wand'ring, as thou call'st it, which who knows 
But might as ill have happen'd thou being by. 
Or to thyself perhaps : hadst thou been there, 
Or here th' attempt, thou couldst not have discern'd 
Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake; 
No ground of enmity between us known. 
Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
Was I to have never parted from thy side ? 
As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. 
Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 
Command me absolutely not to go. 
Going into such danger, as thou saidst? 
Too facile, then thou didst not much gainsay, 
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
Hadst thou been firm and fix'd in thy dissent, 
Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with me. 

To whom then fi;"st incensed Adam replied. 
Is this the love, is this the recompense 
Of mine to thee, ungrateful Eve, express'd. 
Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, 
Who might have lived and joy'd immortal bliss. 
Yet willingly chose rather death with thee ? 

^ ^ 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 241 

And am I now upbraided, as the cause 
Of thy transgressing ? not enough severe, 
It sesms, in thy restraint : what could I more ? 
I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold 
The danger, and the lurking enemy 
That lay in wait: beyond this had been force, 
And force upon free will hath here no place. 
But confidence then bore thee on, secure 
Either to meet no danger, or to find 
Matter of glorious trial ; and perhaps 
I also err'd in overmuch admiring 
What seem'd in thee so perfect, that I thought 
No evil durst attempt thee ; but I rue 
The error now, which is become my crime, 
And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 
Him who to worth in woman overtrusting 
Lets her will rule ; restraint she will not brook. 
And left to herself, if evil thence ensue. 
She first his weak indulgence will accuse. 
Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning. 
And of their vain contest appear'd no end. 
16 



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# 



242 PARADISE LOST, 



BOOK X. 

The Argument. 

Man's transgression known, the guardian angels forsake paradise, and return up to 
heaven to approve their vigilance, and are approved, God declaring that the entrance of 
Satan could not be by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transgressors ; who 
descends, and gives sentence accordingly; then in pity clothes them bo'h and reascends. 
Sin and Death, sitting till then at the gatesof hell.by wondrous sympathy, feeling the success 
of Satan in this new world, and the sin by man there committed, resolve to sit no longer con- 
fined in hell, but to follow Satan their sire up to the plane of man : to ni iks the way easier 
from hell to this world to and fro, they pave a broad highway, or bridge, over Chaos, ac- 
cording to the track that Satan first made ; then, preparing for earth, they meet him, proud 
of his success, returning to hell ; their mutual gratulation. Satan arr.ves at Pan- 
demonium, in full assembly relates with boasting his success against man; instead of 
applause, is entertained with a general hiss by all his audience, transformed, with himself 
also, suddenly into serpents, according to his doom, given in Paradise; then, deluded with 
a show of the forbidden tree springing up before them, they greedily reaching to take of the 
frait, chew dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings of Sin and Death; God forstells the final 
victory of his Son over them, and the renewing of all things ; but for the present commands 
his angels to make several alterations in the heavens and elements. Adam, more and more 
perceiving his fallen condition, heavily bewails, rejects the condolemeni of Eve, she persists, 
and at length appeases him : then, to evade the curse likely to fall on their offspring, pro- 
poses to Adam violent ways, which he approves not ; but conceiving better hope, puts her 
in mind of the late promise made them, that her seed should be revenged on the serpent, 
and exhorts her with him to seek peace of the offended Deity, by repentance and supplication. 

Meanwhile the heinous and despiteful act 

Of Satan done in paradise, and how 

He in the serpent had perverted Eve, 

Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, 

Was known in hcav'n ; for what can scape the eye 

Of God all seeing, or deceive His heart 

Omniscient, who, in all things wise and just, 

Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the mind 

Of man, with strength entire, and freewill arm'd. 

Complete to have discover'd and repulsed 

Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend ! 

For still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd 

The high injunction not to taste that fruit, 

^ ^ 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 243 

Whoever tempted ; which they not obeying 
Incurr'd, what could they less ? the penalty, 
And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 

Up into heav'n from paradise in haste 
Th' angelic guards ascended, mute and sad 
For man ; for of his state by this they knew. 
Much wondering how the subtle fiend had stol'n 
Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news 
From earth arrived at heaven gate, displeased 
All were who heard ; dim sadness did not spare 
That time celestial visages, yet mix'd 
With pity violated not their bliss. 
About the new-arrived in multitudes 
Th' ethereal people ran, to hear and know 
How all befell : they towards the throne supreme 
Accountable made haste to make appear 
With righteous plea their utmost vigilance. 
And easily approved ; when the most high 
Eternal Father from his secret cloud 
Amidst in thunder utter'd thus his voice. 

Assembled angels, and ye powers return'd 
From unsuccessful charge, be not dismay'd, 
Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth. 
Which your sincerest care could not prevent. 
Foretold so lately what would come to pass, 
When first this tempter cross'd the gulf from hell. 
I told ye then he should prevail and speed 
On his bad errand ; man should be seduced 
And flatter'd out of all, believing lies 
Against his Maker; no decree of mine 
Concurring to necessitate his fall. 
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse 
His free will, to her own inclining left 
In even scale. But fall'n he is, and now 
What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
On his transgression, death denounced that day, 

d^ ^ 



^ ^ 

244 PARADISE LOST. 

Which he presumes already vain and void, 

Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd, 

By some immediate stroke ; but soon shall find 

Forbearance no acquittance ere day end. 

Justice shall not return as bounty scorn' d. 

But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee 

Vicegerent Son; to thee I have transferr'd^ 

All judgment, whether in heav'n, or earth, or hell. 

Easy it may be seen that I intend 

Mercy colleague with justice,^ sending thee 

Man's friend, his. Mediator, his design'd 

Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntary, 

And destined Man himself to jadge man fall'n. 

So 'spake the Father, and, unfolding bright 
Toward the right liand His glory, on the Son 
Blazed forth unclouded Deity ; He full 
Resplendent all His Father manifest 
Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd mild. 

Father eternal, thine is to decree, 
Mine both in heav'n and .earth to do thy will 
Supreme, that thou in me thy Son belov'd 
May'st ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
On earth these thy transgressors, but thou know'st, 
Whoever judged, the worst on me must light. 
When time shall be; for so I undertook 
Before thee, and not repenting this obtain 
Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
On me derived ; yet I shall temper so 
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most 
Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. 
Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none 
Are to behold the judgment, but the judged, 
Those two ; the third best absent is condemn'd. 
Convict by flight, and rebel to all law, 



1 St. John V. 22. 2 Psalm Ixxxv. 10. 

C^ ^ ^ ^ 



^ Qy 

PARADISE LOST. 245 

Conviction to the serpent none belongs. 

Thus saying, from His radiant seat He rose 
Of high collateral glory : Him thrones and powers, 
Princedoms and dominations ministrant 
Accompanied to heaven gate, from whence 
Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 
Down He descended straight ; the speed of gods 
Time counts not, tho' with swiftest minutes wing'd. 
Now was the sun in western cadence low ^ 
From noon, and gentle airs due at their hour 
To fan the earth now waked, and usher in 
The ev'ning cool, when He from wrath more cool 
Came, the mild Judge and Intercessor both, 
To sentence man : the voice of God they heard 
Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 
Brought to their ears, while day declined, they heard, 
And from His presence hid themselves among 
The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God 
Approaching thus to Adam call'd aloud. 

Where art thou Adam,^ wont with joy to meet 
My coming seen far off? I miss thee here ; 
Not pleased, thus entertain'd with solitude, 
Where obvious duty erewhile appear'd unsought : 
Or come I less conspicuous, or what change 
Absents thee, or what chance detains ? Come forth. 

He came, and with him Eve, more loth, though first 
To offend, discountenanced both, and discomposed. 
Love was not in their looks, either to God 
Or to each other, but apparent guilt, 
And shame, and perturbation, and despair. 
Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
Whence Adam, falt'ring long, thus answer'd brief. 

I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 
Afraid, being naked, hid myself To whom 

1 Gen. iii. 8. 2 Gen. iii. 9 and following verses. 



a- ^ -^ 

246 PARADISE LOST. 

'The gracious Judge without revile replied. 

My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd, 
But still rejoiced ; how is it now become 
So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked, who 
Hath told thee ? hast thou eaten of the tree 
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat ? 

To whom thus Adam sore beset replied. 

hcav'n ! in evil strait this day I stand 
Before my Judge, either to undergo 
Myself the total crime, or to accuse 
My other self, the partner of my life ; 
Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 

1 should conceal, and not expose to blame 
By my complaint; but strict necessity 
Subdues me, and calamitous constraint, 
Lest on my head both sin and punishment. 
However insupportable, be all 

Devolved : though should I hold my peace, yet thou 
Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
This woman whom thou madest to be my help, 
And gav'st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
So fit, so acceptable, so divine. 
That from her hand I could suspect no ill. 
And what she did, whatever in itself. 
Her doing seem'd to justify the deed ; 
She gave me of the tree, and I did eat. 

To whom the sov'reign Presence thus replied. 
Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 
Before His voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
Superior, or but equal, that to her 
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
Wherein God set thee above her, made of thee 
And for thee, whose perfection far excell'd 
Hers in all real dignity ? adorn'd 
She was indeed, and lovely to attract 
Thy love, not thy subjection ; and her gifts 

, —^ 



■^ ^ 

PAR AD J SE LOST. 247 

Were such as under government well seem'd, 
Unseemly to bear rule, which was thy part 
And person, hadst thou known thyself aright. 

So having said. He thus to Eve in few : 
Say, woman, what is this which thou hast done? 

To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd 
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 
Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied. 
The serpent me beguiled, and I did eat. 

Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
To judgment He proceeded on th' accused 
Serpent though brute, unable to transfer 
The guilt on him who made him instrument 
Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
Of his creation; justly then accursed. 
As vitiated in nature : more to know 
Concern'd not man, since he no further knew, 
Nor alter'd his offence : yet God at last 
To Satan first in sin his doom applied. 
Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best: 
And on the serpent thus His curse let fall. 

Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 
Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 
Upon thy belly grovelling thou shalt go, 
And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
Between thee and the woman I will put 
Enmity, and between thine and her seed ; 
Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel. 

So spake this oracle, then verified 
When Jesus, Son of Mary, second Eve, 
Saw Satan fall like lightning down from heav'n,' 
Prince of the air f then rising from His grave 
Spoil'd principalities and powers, triumph'd 
In open show, and with ascension bright 

1 Luke X. 18. 2 Ephes. ii. 2; iv. 8. Colos. ii. 15. 

"^ ^ ^ -^ 



a — --^ -^ 

248 " PARADISE LOST. 

Captivity led captive through the air, 
The realm itself of Satan long usurp'cl, 
Whom He shall tread at last under our feet; 
Ev'n He who now foretold His fatal bruise; 
And to the woman thus His sentence ttirn'd. 

Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
By thy conception ; children thou shalt bring 
In sorrow forth, and to thy husband's will 
Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule. 

On Adam last thus judgment He pronounced. 
Because thou hast hearken'd to the voice of thy wife, 
And eaten of the tree concerning which 
I charged thee, saying : Thou shalt not eat thereof, 
Cursed is the ground for thy sake, thou in sorrow 
Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life ; 
Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
Unbid, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field ; 
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread. 
Till thou return unto the ground, for thou 
Out of the ground wast taken ; know thy birth. 
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return. 

So judged he man, both Judge and Saviour sent ; 
And th' instant stroke of death denounced that day 
Removed far off; then pitying how they stood 
Before him naked to the air, that now 
Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin 
Thenceforth the form of servant * to assume, 
As when he wash'd his servants' feet,^ so now 
As father of his family he clad 
Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid; 
And thought not much to clothe His enemies. 
Nor He their outward only with the skins 
Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 

1 Philip, ii. 7. '■^ John xiii. 5. 

d^ ^ 



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PARADISE LOST. 249 

Opprobrious, with His robe of righteousness, 

Arraying, cover'd from his Father's sight. 

To Him with swift ascent He up return'd, 

Into His blissful bosom reassumed 

In glory as of, old ; to Him appeased 

All, though all-knowing, what had past with man 

Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 

Meanwhile, ere thus was sinn'd and judged on earth, 
Within the gates of hell sat Sin and Death, 
In counterview within the gates, that now 
Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame 
Far into Chaos, since the fiend pass'd through, 
Sin opening, who thus now to Death began. 

O son, why sit we here, each other viewing 
Idly, while Satan our great author thrives 
In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
For us his offspring dear ? It cannot be 
But that success attends him ; if mishap, 
Ere this he had return'd, with fury driven 
By his avengers, since no place like this 
Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
Wings growing, and dominion giv'n me large 
Beyond this deep ; whatever draws me on. 
Or sympathy, or some connatural force, 
Powerful at greatest distance to unite 
With secret amity things of like kind 
By secretest conveyance. Thou my shade 
Inseparable must with me along ; 
For Death fi om Sin no power can separate. 
But lest the difficulty of passing back 
Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
Impassable, impervious, let us try 
Advent'rous work, yet to thy power and mine 
Not unagreeable, to found a path 
Over this main from hell to that new world 

^ ——^ 



<b 



250 



PARADISE LOST. 

Where Satan now prevails, a monument 
Of merit high to all th' infernal host, 
Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, 
Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 
Nor can I miss the way so strongly drawn 
By this new felt attraction and instinct. 

Whom thus the meagre Shadow answer'd soon. 
Go whither fate and inclination strong 
Leads thee ; I shall not lag behind, nor err. 
The way thou leading, such a scent I draw 
Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
The savor of death from all things there that live: 
Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 
Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid. 

So saying, with delight he snuff'd the smell 
Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, 
Against the day of battle, to a field, 
Where armies lie encamp'd, come flying, lured 
With scent of living carcasses design'd 
For death, the following day, in bloody fight : 
So scented the grim feature, and upturn'd 
His nostril wide into the murky air. 
Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
Then both from out hell gates into the waste 
Wide anarchy of Chaos damp and dark 
Flew diverse ; and with power, their power was great, 
Hovering upon the waters ; what they met 
Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
Tost up and down, together crowded drove 
From each side shoaling towards the mouth of hell. 
As when the two polar winds, blowing adverse 
Upon the Cronian sea,^ together drive 
Mountains of ice, that stop th' imagined way ^ 



1 Northern frozen sea Newton. 



2 The north-east passage to China, i.e., Cathay. 



c:^ 



4 



^ ^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 25 1 

Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich 

Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 

Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 

As with a trident smote, and fix'd as firm 

As Delos floating once ; the rest his look 

Bound with Gorgonian rigor ^ not to move, 

And with Asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 

Deep to the roots of hell the gather'd beach 

They fasten'd, and the mole immense wrought on 

Over the foaming deep high arch'd, a bridge 

Of length prodigious joining to the wall 

Immovable of this now fenceless world 

Forfeit to death : from hence a passage broad, 

Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to hell. 

So, if great things to small may be compared, 

Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, 

From Susa his Memnonian palace high 

Came to the Sea, and over Hellespont 

Bridging his way, Europe with Asia join'd, 

And scourged with many a stroke th' indignant waves. 

Now had they brought the work by wond'rous art 

Pontifical,^ a ridge of pendent rock 

Over the vex'd abyss, following the track 

Of Satan, to the self-same place where he 

First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 

From out of Chaos, to the outside bare 

Of 'this round world : with pins of adamant 

And chains they made all fast, too fast they made 

And durable ; and now in little space 

The confines met of empyrean heav'n 

And of this world, and on the left hand hell 

With long reach interposed ; three sev'ral ways 



1 Alluding to Medusa's power of turning people into stone. 

2 Pontifical, i.e., the art of making bridges. The high priest of Rome derived liii title, 
Pontifex, from pons, a bridge, and/ac^/-^, to make ; perhaps becauie religious rites of great 
importance inaugurated these highly-valued works, which he always superintended. 

4) — -^ 



^ 



^ 



252 . PARADISE LOST. 

In sight to each of these three places led. 

And now their way to earth they had descried; 

To paradise first tending, when behold 

Satan in likeness of an angel bright 

Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering^ 

His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose : 

Disguised he came, but those his children dear 

Their parents soon discern'd, though in disguise. 

He, after Eve seduced unminded slunk 

Into the wood fast by, and, changing shape 

To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 

By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 

Upon her husband, saw their shame that sought 

Vain covertures : but when he saw descend 

The Son of God to judge them, terrified 

He fled ; not hoping to escape, but shun 

The present, fearing, guilty, what His wrath 

Might suddenly inflict: that past, return'd. 

By night, and listening where the hapless pair 

Sat in their sad discourse and various plaint, 

Thence gather'd his own doom, which understood 

Not instant, but of future time with joy 

And tidings fraught, to hell he now return'd, 

And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 

Of this new wondrous pontfice," unhoped 

Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 

Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 

Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 

Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 

Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke. 

O parent, these are thy magnific deeds, 
Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own ; 
Thou art their author and prime architect : 

1 To avoid being seen by Uriel. Centaur and Scorpion are constellations in a different 
^ part of the heavens to Aries on the equator. — Newton. 2 Bridge. 



^ 



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a- % 

PARADISE LOST. 253 

For I no sooner in my heart divined, 

My heart which by a secret harmony 

Still moves with thine, join'd in connexion sweet 

That thou on earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks 

Now also evidence, but straight I felt, 

Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 

That I must after thee with this thy son, 

Such fatal consequence unites us three. 

Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 

Nor this unvoyageablo gulf obscure 

Detain from following thy illustrious track. 

Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 

Within hell gates till now ; thou us empower'd 

To fortify thus far, and overlay 

With this portentous bridge the dark abyss. 

Thine now is all this world, thy virtue hath won 

What thy hands builded not, thy wisdom gain'd 

With odds what war hath lost, and fully avenged 

Our foil in heav'n ; here thou shalt monarch reign, 

There didst not ; there let Him still victor sway, 

As battle hath adjudged, from this new world 

Retiring, by His own doom alienated. 

And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 

Of all things, parted by th' empyreal bounds. 

His quadrature, from thy orbicular world. 

Or try thee now more dang'rous to his throne. 

Whom thus the prince of darkness answer'd glad. 
Fair daughter, and thou son and grandchild both, 
High proof ye now have giv'n to be the race 
Of Satan, for I glory in the name, 
Antagonist of heav'n's almighty King, 
Amply have merited of me, of all 
Th' infernal empire, that so near heav'n's door 
Triumphal with triumphal act havj met. 
Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm 
Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 

4- ^ — ^ 



^ -^ 

254 PARADISE LOST. 

Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
Descend through darkness on your road with ease 
To my associate powers, them to acquaint 
With these successes, and with them rejoice, 
You two this way, among these numerous orbs 
All yours, right down to Paradise descend ; 
There dwell and reign in bliss, thence on the earth 
Dominion exercise and in the air, 
Chiefly on man, sole lord of all declared ; 
Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
My substitutes I send ye, and create 
Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
Issuing from me : on your joint vigor now 
My hold of this new kingdom all depends, 
Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
If your joint power prevail, th' affairs of hell 
No detriment need fear ; go and be strong. 

So saying he dismiss'd them, they with speed 
Their course through thickest constellations held 
Spreading their bane; the blasted stars look'd wan. 
And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
Then suffcr'd. Th' other way Satan went down 
The causey to hell gate : on either side 
Disparted Chaos over built exclaim'd, 
And with rebounding surge the bars assail'd, 
That scorn'd his indignation. Through the gate, 
Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd, 
And all about found desolate ; for those 
Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 
Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 
Far to the inland retired, about the walls 
Of Pandsemonium, city and proud seat 
Of Lucifer, so by allusion call'd. 
Of that bright star to Satan paragon'd. 
There kept their watch the legions, while the grand 
In council sat, solicitous what chance 



^ 



a- Q, 

PARADISE LOST. 255 

Might intercept their emperor sent ; so he 

Departing gave command, and they observed. 

As when the Tartar from his Russian foe 

By Astracan over the snowy plains 

Retires, or Bactrian Sophy ^ from the horns 

Of Turkish crescent" leaves all waste beyond 

The realm of Aladule^ in his retreat 

To Tauris or Casbeen : so these, the late 

Heav'n-banish'd host, left desert utmost hell 

Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 

Round their metropolis, and now expecting 

Each hour their great adventurer from the search 

Of foreign worlds: he through the midst unmark'd. 

In show plebeian angel militant 

Of lowest order, pass'd; and from the door 

Of that Plutonian hall invisible 

Ascended his high throne, which, under state 

Of richest texture spread, at th' upper end 

Was placed in regal lustre. Down awhile 

He sat, and round about him saw unseen: 

At last as from a cloud his fulgent head 

And shape star-bright appear'd, or brighter, clad 

With what permissive glory since his fall 

Was left him, or false glitter. All amazed 

At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng 

Bent their aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld, 

Their mighty chief return'd: loud was th' acclaim. 

Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers, 

Raised from their dark divan, and with like joy, 

1 The Persian monarch thus named from Bactria, one of the greatest provinces of Persia. 

2 The ensign or emblem of Turkey. 

3 "Aladule," the greater Armenia, called by the Turks (under whom the greatest part of 
it is) Aladule, of its last King, Aladule, slain by Selymus I.; " in his retreat to Tauris," a 
great city in the kingdom of Persia, noiv called Ecbatana, sometime in the hands of the 
Turks, but in 1603 retaken by Abas, KingofPersia ; "or Casbeen," one of the greatest cities 
of Persia, where the Persian monarchs made their residence after the loss of Tauris, Irom 
which it is distant sixty- five German miles to the south-east. — HUME. 



a-- 



^ 



256 PARADISE LOST. 

Congratulant approach'd him, who with hand 
Silence, and with these words attention, won. 

Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers. 
For in possession such, not only of right, 
I call ye and declare ye no\y, return'd 
Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
Abominable, accursed, the house of woe. 
And dungeon of our tyrant : now possess, 
As lords, a spacious world, to our native heav'n 
Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
What I have done, what suffer'd, with what pain 
Voyaged th' unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
Of horrible confusion, over which 
By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved 
To expedite your glorious march : but I 
Toil'd out my uncouth passage, forced to ride 
Th' untractable abyss, plunged in the womb 
Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild, 
That jealous of their secrets fiercely opposed 
My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 
Protesting fate supreme; thence how I found 
The new created world, which fame in heav'n 
Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful 
Of absolute perfection, therein man 
Placed in a paradise, by our exile 
Made happy : him by fraud I have seduced 
From his Creator, and, the more to increase 
Your wonder, with an apple; He thereat 
Offended, worth your laughter I hath giv'n up 
Both His beloved man and all His world 
To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 
Without our hazard, labor, or alarm, 
To range in, and to dwell, and over man 
To rule, as over all He should have ruled. 

45 ^ 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 257 

True is, me also he hath judged, or rather 

Me not, but the brute serpent, in whose shape 

Man I deceived: that which to me belongs 

Is enmity, which he will put between 

Me and mankind : I am to bruise his heel ; 

His seed (when is not set)^ shall bruise my head. 

A Avorld who would not purchase with a bruise. 

Or much more grievous pain ? Ye have th' account 

Of my performance : what remains, ye gods. 

But up and enter now into full bliss ? 

So having said, awhile he stood, expecting 
Their universal shout and high applause 
To fill his ear, when contrary he hears 
On all sides, from innumerable tongues, 
A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
Of public scorn ; he wonder'd, but not long 
Had leisure, wond'ring at himself now more: 
His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare, 
His arms clung to his ribs, his legs entwining 
Each other, till supplanted down he fell 
A monstrous serpent on his belly prone. 
Reluctant, but in vain, a greater power 
Now ruled him, punish'd in the shape he sinn'd, 
According to his doom. He would have spoke, 
But hiss for hiss return'd with forked tongue 
To forked tongue, for now were all transform'd 
Alike, to serpents all as accessories 
To his bold rio.t : dreadful was the din 
Of hissing through the hr.ll, thick swarming now 
With complicated monsters head and tail. 
Scorpion, and asp, and amphisbaena^ dire, 
Cerastes"^ horn'd, hydrus,'' and elop^ drear, 
And dipsas f not so thick svv^arm'd once the soil 

1 The time (when) is not declared. 

2 A serpent said to have a head at both ends of its body. ' A horned snake. 
* A water snake. ^ a water serpent. 6 a snake the bite of which produces feverish thirst. 

(^ ^ 



a -^ 

258 PARADISE LOST. 

Bedropp'd with blood of Gorgon^ or the isle 

Ophiusa ;" but still greatest he the midst, 

Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 

Ingender'd in the Pythian vale on slime, 

Huge Python,^ and his power no less he seem'd 

Above the rest still to retain. They all 

Him follow'd issuing forth to th' open field, 

Where all yet left of that revolted rout 

Heav'n-fall'n in station stood or just arra)', 

Sublime with expectation when to see, 

In triumph issuing forth their glorious chief: 

They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd 

Of ugly serpents ; horror on them fell. 

And horrid sympathy ; for what they saw, 

They felt themselves now changing : down their arms, 

Down fell both spear and shield, down they as fast, 

And the dire hiss renew'd, and the dire form 

Catch'd by contagion, like in punishment, 

As in their crime. Thus was th' applause they meant 

Turn'd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame, 

Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There stood 

A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 

His will who reigns above, to aggravate 

Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that 

Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 

Used by the tempter : on that prospect strange 

Their earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining 

For one forbidden tree a multitude 

Now ris'n, to work them further woe or shame : 

Yet parch'd with scalding thirst and hunger fierce. 

Though to delude them sent, could not abstain. 



1 Lybia, where the blood which dropped from Medusa's head produced serpents. 

2 An island in the Mediterranean, which was deserted on account of its serpents, from 
which it derived iis name. — Newton. 

3 A huge serpent, sprung from the slime left after the Deucalion deluge. It was slain by 
Apollo. 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 259 

But on they roll'd in heaps, and u^ the trees 

Climbing sat thicker than the snaky locks 

That curl'd Megaera •} greedily they pluck'd 

The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 

Near that bituminous lake^ where Sodom flamed; 

This more delusive, not the touch, but taste 

Deceived ; they, fondly thinking to allay 

Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 

Chew'd bitter ashes, which th' offended taste 

With spattering noise rejected : oft they assay'd, 

Hunger and thirst constraining, drugg'd as oft, 

With hatefullest disrelish writhed their jaws 

With soot and cinders fill'd ; so oft they fell 

Into the same illusion, not as man 

Whom they triumph'd once lapsed. Thus were they plagued 

And worn with famine long an*d ceaseless hiss, 

Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed ; 

Yearly enjoin'd, some say, to undergo 

This annual humbling certain number'd days 

To dash their pride and joy for man seduced. 

However, some tradition they dispersed 

Among the heathen of their purchase got, 

And fabled how the serpent, whom they call'd 

Ophion with Eurynome, (the wide 

Encroaching Eve perhaps,) had first the rule 

Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n 

And Ops, ere yet Dictjean Jove was born. 

Meanwhile in paradise the hellish pair 
Too soon arrived, Sin there in power before. 
Once actual, now in body, and to dwell 
Habitual habitant; behind her Death 
Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet 
On his pale horse; to whom Sin thus began. 

1 One of the Furies. 

2 Lake Asphaltites, or Dead Sea. Milton alludes to Josephus's account of the apples of 
Sodom, said to have a lovely exterior, but within to be full of ashes. It is not true. 

^ ^ 



260 PARADISE LOST. 

Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death, 
What think'st thou of our empire now, though earn'd 
With travail difficult, not better far 
Than still at hell's dark threshold to have sate watch, 
Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half starved? 

Whom thus the sin-born monster answer'd soon. 
To me, who with eternal famine pine, 
Alike is hell, or paradise, or heaven. 
There best, where most with ravine I may meet ; 
Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems ^ 
To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps. 

To whom th' incestuous mother thus replied. 
Thou therefore on these herbs, and fruits, and flowers 
Feed first ; on each beast next, and fish, and fowl ; 
No homely morsels ; and whatever thing 
The scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared, 
Till I in man residing through the race, 
His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect; 
And season him thy last and sweetest prey. 

This said, they both betook them several ways, 
Both to destroy, or unimmortal make 
All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
Sooner or later; which th' Almighty seeing, 
From his transcendent seat the saints among, 
To those bright orders utter'd thus his voice. 

See with what heat these dogs of hell advance 
To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
So fair and good created, and had still 
Kept in that state, had not the folly of man 
Let in these wasteful furies, who impute 
Folly to me ; so doth the prince of hell 
And his adherents, that with so much ease 
I suffer them to enter and possess 
A place so heavenly, and conniving seem 

1 Prov. xxvii. 20. 




This said, they both betook them several 



ways. 



Page 260. 



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PARADISE LOST. 261 

To gratify my scornful enemies, 

That laugh, as if, transported with some fit 

Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 

At random yielded up to their misrule ; 

And know not that I called and drew them thither 

My hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth, 

Which man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 

On what was pure ; till cramm'd and gorged, nigh burst 

With suck'd and glutted offal, at one sling 

Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 

Both Sin and Death, and yawning Grave, at last 

Through Chaos hurl'd, obstruct the mouth of hell 

For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws/ 

Then heav'n and earth renew'd shall be made pure 

To sanctify that shall receive no stain : 

Till then the curse pronounced on both precedes. 

He ended, and the heav'nly audience loud 
Sung Hallelujah, as the sound of seas, 
Through multitude that sung : Just are thy ways,^ 
Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
. Who can extenuate thee ? Next, to the Son, 
Destined restorer of mankind, by whom 
New heav'n and earth shall to the ages rise. 
Or dow^n from heav'n descend. Such was their song, 
While the Creator calling forth by name 
His mighty angels gave them several charge, 
As sorted best with present things. The sun 
Had first his precept so to move, so shine. 
As might affect the earth with cold and heat 
Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call 
Decrepit winter; from the south to bring 
Solstitial summer's heat. To the blank moon'^ 
Her office they prescribed, to th' other five 
Their planetary motions and aspects 

1 See Dante's Inferno, cant, xxiii. 2 Rev. xv. 3; xvi. 7. 

3 Some editions printed blanc moon, i.e., while. 

^ ^ ^ 



^. — ^ :- ^ 

262 PARADISE LOST. 

In Sextile, Square, and Trine, and Opposite/ 
Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 
In synod unbenign, and taught the fix'd 
Their influence malignant when to show'r, 
Which of them rising with the sun, or falling, 
Should prove tempestuous. To the winds they set 
Their corners, when with bluster to confound 
Sea, air, and shore; the thunder when to roll 
With terror through the dark aereal hall. 
Some say, he bid his angels turn askance 
The poles of earth twice ten degrees and more 
From the sun's axle ; they with labor push'd 
Oblique the centric globe : some say, the sun 
Was bid turn reins from th' equinoctial road 
Like distant breadth to Taurus with the sev'n 
Atlantic sisters,^ and the Spartan twins,^ 
Up to the Tropic Crab ; thence down amain 
By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 
As deep as Capricorn, to bring in change 
Of seasons to each clime ; else had the spring 
Perpetual smiled on earth with vernant flow'rs, 
Equal in days and nights, except to those 
Beyond the polar circles ; to them day 

1 Terms made use of by the astrologers, and signifying the positions or aspects of ihe five 
(then known) planets. Sextile rafans a planet situated at a distance of two signs (the 
sixth of twelve) from another planet. Square, separated by four signs Trine, separated 
by three signs. Opposite was considered a position of noxious efticacy. The period in 
which Milton lived explains the fact of his countenancing these superstitions, as they were 
universally believed. After the great Fire of London, the House of Commons called the 
astrologer Lilly before them, to examine him as to his foreknowledge of that calamity, and 
gravely received his explanation of how he obtained his foresight from the art he practised. 
He had foretold the fire in a hieroglyphic resembling those formerly published in Old 
Moore's Almanack, which might be interpreted ia any manner the reader pleased. " Did 
you foresee the year?'' asked one of the Committee. " I did not," replied Lilly, " nor 
was desirous; of that I made no scrutiny." The astrologer then told them, very wisely, 
that the fire was not of man, but of God. It was believed to have been caused by 
incendiaries. 

^ The Pleiades, daughters of Atlas. This constellation is in the neck of Taurus. 

8 Castor and Pollux, the Gemini. 

(^ . -^ 



a- -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 263 

Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun 

To recompense his distance in their sight 

Had rounded still th' horizon, and not known 

Or east or west, which had forbid the snow 

From cold Estotiland/ and south as far 

Beneath Magellan." At that tasted fruit 

The sun, as from Thyestean banquet,'* turn'd 

His course intended ; else how had the world 

Inhabited, though sinless, more than now 

Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? 

These changes in the heav'ns, though slow, produced 

Like change on sea and land, sideral blast, 

Vapor, and mist, and exhalation hot, 

Corrupt and pestilent. Now from the north 

Of Norumbega^ and the Samoed shore, 

Bursting their brazen dungeon, arm'd w'ith ice, 

And snow, and iiail, and stormy gust, and flaw, 

Boreas, and Ccecias, and Argestes loud. 

And Thrascias'^ rend the woods, and seas upturn ; 

With adverse blast upturns them from the south 

Notus, and Afer black with thund'rous clouds 

From Serraliona,^ thwart of these as fierce 

Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, 

Eurus and Zephyr^ with their lateral noise 

Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 

Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, 

1 A tract of land north of America, near the Arctic Ocean and Hudson's Bay, — HUME. 

2 Extreme south cf South America. 

3 Atreus, to avenge an injury, invited his brother Thyestes to a banquet, and served up 
for his food the flesh of his murdered children. This horrid revenge was visited on the 
family of Atreus for generations. 

* A province of the northern Armenia. Samoieda, in the northeast of Muscovy, upon 
the Frozen Sea. — Hume. 

' Names of the winds. Boreas, the north ; Caecias, northwest ; Argestes, northeast. 
Thrascias, from Threce. Notus, the south wind. Afer, from Africa, — From RICHARDSON. 

^ The Lion Mountains, southwest of Africa, famous for storms. 

■■ Levant and Ponent are Italian names for the east and west winds, called by the G:eeks 
Eurus and Zephyr. Sirocco and Libecchio are the southeast and southwest winds. 



s- 






264 PARADISE LOST. 

Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational 
Death introduced through fierce antipathy : 
Beast now with beast gan war, and fowl with fowl, 
And fish with fish ; to graze'the herb all leaving 
Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe 
Of man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim 
Glared on him passing. These were from without 
The growing miseries, which Adam saw 
Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade. 
To sorrow abandon'd, but worse felt within, 
And, in a troubled sea of passion tost, 
Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint. 

O miserable of happy ! is this the end 
Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
The glory of that glory, who now become 
Accursed of blessed? Hide me from the face 
Of God, whom to behold was then my highth 
Of happiness: yet well, if here would end 
The misery; I deserved it, and would bear 
My own deservings ; but this will not serve ; 
All that I eat, or drink, or shall beget. 
Is propagated curse. O voice once heard 
Delightfully, Encrcase and multiply, 
Now death to hear ! for what can I cncrease 
Or multiply, but curses on my head ? 
Who of all ages to succeed, but feeling 
The evil on him brought by me, will curse 
My head? Ill fare our ancestor impure. 
For this we may thank Adam ; but his thanks 
Shall be the execration ; so besides 
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound, 
On me, as on their natural centre light 
Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys 
Of paradise, dear bought with lasting woes ! 
Did I request thee. Maker, from my clay 



4^- 



■^ 



a -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 265 

To mould me man ? Did I solicit thee 

From darkness to promote me, or here place 

In this delicious garden? As my will 

Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right 

And equal to reduce me to my dust, 

Desirous to resign, and render back 

All I received, unable to perform 

Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 

The good I sought not. To the loss of that 

Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 

The sense of endless woes? Inexplicable 

Thy justice seems ; yet, to say truth, too late 

I thus contest: then should have been refused 

These terms, whatever, when they were proposed. 

Thou didst accept them ; wilt thou enjoy the good, 

Then cavil the conditions ?' and though God 

Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 

Prove disobedient, and reproved retort, 

Wherefore didst thou beget me ? I sought it not : 

Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee 

That proud excuse ? yet him not thy election, 

But natural necessity begot. 

God made thee of choice his own, and of his own 

To serve him, thy reward was of his grace, 

Thy punishment then justly is at his will. 

Be it so, for I submit, his doom is fair, 

That dust I am, and shall to dust return : 

O welcome hour whenever ! why delays 

His hand to execute what His decree 

Fix'd on this day? why do I overlive ? 

Why am I mock'd with death, and lengthen'd out 

To deathless pain ? how gladly would I meet 

Mortality my sentence, and be earth 

Insensible ! how glad would lay me down 

1 Job ii. 10. 



a- ^ ^ 

266 PARADISE LOST. 

As in my mother's lap ? there I should rest 

And sleep secure ; His dreadful voice no more 

Would thunder in my ears ; no fear of worse 

To me and to my offspring would torment me 

With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt 

Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die, 

Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man^ 

Which God inspired, cannot together perish 

With this corporeal clod ; then in the grave, 

Or in some other dismal place, who knows 

But I shall die a living death ? O thought 

Horrid, if true ! yet why ? it was but breath 

Of life that sinn'd ; what dies but what had life 

And sin ? the body properly hath neither. 

All of me then shall die ; let this appease 

The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 

For though the Lord of all be infinite. 

Is His wrath also ? be it, man is not so, 

But mortal doom'd. How can He exercise 

Wrath without end on man whom death must end ? 

Can He make deathless death ? that were to make 

Strange contradiction, which to God Himself 

Impossible is held, as argument 

Of weakness, not of power. Will He draw out. 

For anger's sake, finite to infinite 

In punish'd man, to satisfy his rigor, 

Satisfied never ? that were to extend 

His sentence beyond dust and nature's law. 

By which all causes else, according still 

To the reception of their matter, act, 

Not to th' extent of their own sphere. But say. 

That death be not one stroke as I supposed, 

Bereaving sense, but endless misery 

From this day onward, which I feel begun 

1 Gen. ii. 7. 




a- 



PARADISE LOST. 267 

Both in me, and without me, and so last 

To perpetuity : — ay me ! that fear 

Comes thund'ring back with dreadful revolution 

On my defenceless head ; both death and I 

Are found eternal, and incorporate both ; 

Nor I on my part single, in me all 

Posterity stands cursed ; fair patrimony 

That I must leave ye sons ! O were I able 

To waste it all myself, and leave ye none ! 

So disinherited, how would ye bless 

Me, now your curse ! Ah ! why should all mankind 

For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemn'd. 

If guiltless ? But from me what can proceed, 

But all corrupt, both mind and will depraved, 

Not to do only, but to will the same 

With me? how can they then acquitted stand 

In sight of God ? Him, after all disputes, 

Forced I absolve : all my evasions vain. 

And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still 

But to my own conviction : first and last 

On me, me only, as the source and spring 

Of all corruption, all the blame lights due; 

So might the wrath ! Fond wish ! couldst thou support 

That burden heavier than the earth to bear, 

Than all the world much heavier, though divided 

With that bad woman ? Thus what tliou desir'st, 

And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 

Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable ' 

Beyond all past example and future : 

To Satan only like both crime and doom. 

Conscience, into what abyss of fears 

And horrors hast thou driv'n me, out of which 

1 find no way from deep to deeper plunged ! 

Thus Adam to himself lamented loud 
Through the still night ; not now, as ere man fell 
Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air 



^ 



4^ 



^ -^ 

268 PARADISE LOST. 

Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom, 

Which to his evil conscience represented 

All things with double terror. On the ground 

Outstretch'd he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 

Cursed his creation, death as oft accused 

Of tardy execution, since denounced 

The day of his offence. Why comes not death, 

Said he, with one thrice acceptable stroke 

To end me ? Shall truth fail to keep her word, 

Justice divine not hasten to be just? 

But death comes not at call, justice divine 

Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries. 

woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales, and bow'rs, 
With other echo late I taught your shades 
To answer, and resound far other song. 
Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, 
Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, 
Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd : 
But her with stern regard he thus repell'd. 

Out of my sight, thou serpent! that name best 
Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false 
And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape, 
Like his, and color serpentine may show 
Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
Henceforth ; lest that too heav'nly form, pretended 
To hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee 

1 had persisted happy, had not thy pride 
And wand'ring vanity, when least was safe, 
Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd 
Not to be trusted, longing to be seen 
Though by the devil himself, him overweening 
To over-reach ; but with the serpent meeting, 
Fool'd and beguiled, by him thou, I by thee. 
To trust thee from my side, imagined wise, 
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults, 
And understood not all was but a show 



a ■■ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 269 

Rather than solid virtue, all but a rib 

Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, 

More to the part sinister from me drawn ; 

Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 

To my just number found. Oh ! why did God, 

Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n 

With spirits masculine, create at last 

This novelty on earth, this fair defect 

Of nature, and not fill the world at once 

With men as angels without feminine, 

Or find some other way to generate 

Mankind ? This mischief had not then befall'n, 

And more that shall befall ; innumerable 

Disturbances on earth through female snares. 

And straight conjunction with this sex: for either 

He never shall find out fit mate, but such 

As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; 

Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain 

Through her perverseness, but shall see her gain'd 

By a far worse ; or if she love, withheld 

By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 

Shall meet, already link'd and wedlock-bound 

To a fell adversary, his hate or shame ; 

Which infinite calamity shall cause 

To human life, and household peace confound. 

He added not, and from her turn'd ; but Eve 
Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing, 
And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet 
Fell humble, and, embracing them, besought 
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint. 

Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness heav'n 
What love sincere and reverence in my heart 
I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
Unhappily deceived ; thy suppliant 
I beg, and clasp thy knees ; bereave me not 
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 



a- ■ -^ 

2;o PARADISE LOST. 

Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, 

My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 

Whither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 

While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 

Between us two let there be peace, both joining. 

As join'd in injuries, one enmity 

Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, 

That cruel serpent. On me exercise not 

Thy hatred for this misery befall'n, 

On me already lost, me than thyself 

More miserable ; both have sinn'd, but thou 

Against God only, I against God and thee, 

And to the place of judgment will return. 

There with my cries importune heaven, that all 

The sentence from thy head removed, may light 

On me, soul cause to thee of all this woe, 

Me, me only, just object of his ire. 

She ended weeping, and her lowly plight, 
Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault 
Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
Commiseration ; soon his heart relented 
Towards her, his life so late and sole delight, 
Now at his feet submissive in distress ; 
Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, 
His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid ; 
As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost, 
And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon. 

Unwary and too desirous as before, 
So now of what thou know'st not, who desir'st 
The punishment all on thyself; alas. 
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 
His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part. 
And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers 
Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, 
That on my head all might be visited, 

d^ : ^ 



^ — : ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 271 

Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiv'n, 
To me committed, and by me exposed. 
But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 
Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 
In offices of love how we may lighten 
Each other's burden in our share of woe ; 
Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see, 
Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil, 
A long day's dying to augment our pain, 
And to our seed, O hapless seed ! derived. 

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied. 
Adam, by sad experiment I know 
How little weight my words with thee can find. 
Found so erroneous, thence by just event 
Found so unfortunate ; nevertheless, 
Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart 
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are ris'n, 
Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, 
As in our evils, and of easier choice. 
If care of our descent perplex us most. 
Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd 
By Death at last, and miserable it is 
To be to others cause of misery, 
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring, 
Into this cursed world a woful race, 
That after wretched life must be at last 
Food for so foul a monster, in thy power 
It lies, yet ere conception to prevent 
The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
Childless thou art, childless remain : so Death 
Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two 
Be forced to satisfy his rav'nous maw. 
But if thou judge it hard and difficult, 

^ . 



272 PARADISE LOST. 

Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet, 
And with desire to languish without hope. 
Before the present object languishing 
With like desire, which would be misery, 
And torment less than none of what we dread, 
Then both ourselves and seed at once to free 
From what we fear for both, let us make short ; 
Let us seek Death, or, he not found, supply 
With our own hands his office on ourselves : 
Why stand we longer shivering under fears. 
That show no end but death, and have the power. 
Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, 
Destruction with destruction to destroy? 

She ended here, or vehement despair 
Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts 
Had entertain'd, as dyed her cheeks with pale. 
But Adam, with such counsel nothing sway'd, 
To better hopes his more attentive mind 
Laboring had raised, and thus to Eve replied. 

Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
To argue in thee something more sublime 
And excellent than what thy mind contemns ; 
But self-destruction therefore sought refutes 
That excellence thought in thee, and implies, 
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
For loss of life and pleasure overloved. 
Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 
Of misery, so thinking to evade 
The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
Hath wiselier arni'd his vengeful ire than so 
To be forcstall'd : much more I fear lest death 
So snatch'd will not exempt us from the pain 
We are by doom to pay : rather such acts 
Of contumacy will provoke the Highest 
To make death in us live : then let us seek 

^ -^ 



r- 



* 



PARADISE LOST. 273 

Some safer resolution, which methinks 

I have in view, calling to mind with heed 

Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 

The serpent's head : piteous amends, unless 

Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe 

Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived 

Against us this deceit. To crush his head 

Would be revenge indeed ; which will be lost 

By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 

Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe 

Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and we 

Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 

No more be mention'd then of violence 

Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, 

That cuts us off from hope, and savors only 

Raiicor and pride, impatience and despite, 

Reluctance against God and His just yoke 

Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 

And gracious temper He both heard and judged 

Without wrath or reviling ; we expected 

Immediate dissolution, which we thought 

Was meant by death that day, when, lo ! to thee 

Pains only in child-bearing were foretold. 

And bringing forth ; soon recompensed with joy, 

Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse aslope 

Glanced on the ground, with labor I must earn 

My bread ; what harm ? idleness had been worse ; 

My labor will sustain me ; and lest cold 

Or heat should injure us. His timely care 

Hath unbesought provided, and His hands 

Clothed us unworthy, pitying while He judged. 

How much more, if we pray Him, will His ear 

Be open, and His heart to pity incline. 

And teach us further by what means to shun 

Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow, 

Which now the sky with various face begins 

18 

^ ^ 



a- \ ^ 

274 PARADISE LOST. ■ 

To show us in this mountain, while the winds 

Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks 

Of these fair spreading trees, which bids us seek 

Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 

Our limbs bcnumb'd, ere this diurnal star 

Leave cold the night ; how we his gather'd beams 

Reflected may with matter sere foment, 

Or by collision of two bodies grind 

The air attrite^ to fire, as late the clouds 

Justling or push'd with winds rude in their shock. 

Tine^ the slant lightning whose thwart flame driv'n down 

Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, 

And sends a comfortable heat from far, 

Which might supply the sun. Such fire to use, 

And what may else be remedy or cure 

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought ; % 

He will instruct us praying, and of grace 

Beseeching Him, so as we need not fear 

To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd 

By Him with many comforts, till we end 

In dust, our final rest and native home. 

What better can we do, than, to the place 

Repairing where He judged us, prostrate fall 

Before Him reverent, and there confess 

Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears 

Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 

Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 

Of sorrow unfeign'd and humiliation meek? 

Undoubtedly He will relent and turn 

From His displeasure, in whose look serene. 

When angry most He seem'd and most severe. 

What else but favor, grace, and mercy shone ? 

So spake our father penitent, nor Eve 
Felt less remorse : they forthwith to the place 

1 Worn by rubbing or friction. ^ To kindle. 

^ ^ ^ 



PARADISE LOST. 275 

Repairing where He judged them prostrate fell • 
Before Him reverent, and both confess'd 
Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears 
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
Frequenting,^ sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
Of sorrow unfeign'd and humiliation meek. 

I Beating the air. 



^ -^ 



^ ^ -^ 

2^6 PARADISE LOST. 



BOOK XI. 

The Argument. 

The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, 
and intercedes for them : God accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in 
paradise; sends Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them ; but first to reveal to 
Adam future things: Michael's coming down. Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs; 
he discerns Michael's approach ; goes out to meet him : the angel denounces their ap- 
proaching departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits : the angel leads him 
up to a high hill ; sets before him in vision what shall happen till the Flood. 

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood, 
Praying, for from the mercy-seat above 
Prevenient grace descending had removed 
The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 
Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed 
Unutterable/ which the spirit of prayer 
Inspired, and wing'd for heav'n with speedier flight 
Than loudest oratory : yet their port 
Not of mean suitors, nor important less 
Seem'd their petition, than when the ancient pair 
In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore 
The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine 
Of Themis stood devout.^ To heav'n their prayers 
Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds 
Blown vagabond or frustrate : in they pass'd 
Dimensionless through heav'nly doors; then clad 
With incense,^ where the golden altar fumed. 
By their great Intercessor, came in sight 
Before the Father's throne ; them the glad Son 
Presenting, thus to intercede began. 

1 Romans viii. 26. 

^2 Themis, the goddess of justice. The fable of Deucalion and Pyrrha, evidently founded 
on a heathen tradition of Noah's fiood, is told by Ovid, Met. I. fab. 8. ^ Psalm cxli. 2. 



a Qp 

PARADISE LOST. 277 

See, Father, what first fruits on earth are sprung 
From thy implanted grace in man, these sighs 
And prayers, which in this golden censer mix'd 
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring. 
Fruits of more pleasing savor from thy seed 
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
Which his own hand manuring all the trees 
Of paradise could have produced, ere fall'n 
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 
To supplication, hear his sighs though mute ; 
Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
Interpict for him, me his advocate ^ 
And propitiation; all his works on me 
Good or not good ingraft, my merit those 
Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. 
Accept me, and in me from these receive 
The smell of peace toward mankind, let him live 
Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
Number'd, though sad, till death his doom, (which I 
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,) 
To better life shall yield him, where with me 
All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss ; 
Made one with me as I with thee am one.^ 

To whom the Father, without cloud, serene ; 
All thy request for man, accepted Son, 
Obtain ; all thy request was my decree : 
But longer in that Paradise to dwell 
The law I gave to nature him forbids : 
Those pure immortal elements, that know 
No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul. 
Eject him tainted now, and purge him off 
As a distemper gross, to air as gross. 
And mortal food, as may dispose him best 
For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 

' I John ii. 1,2. 22 John xvii. 21, 22. 



^^ *~^ 

278 PARADISE LOST. 

Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt 

Corrupted. I, at first, with two fair gifts 

Created him endow'd, with happiness 

And immortality : that fondly lost, 

This other served but to eternize woe, 

Till I provided death ; so death becomes 

His final remedy, and after life 

Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined 

By faith and faithful works, to second life, 

Waked in the renovation of the just, 

Resigns him up with heav'n and earth renew'd. 

But let us call to synod all the blest 

Through heav'n's wide bounds; from them I will not hide 

My judgment; how with mankind I proceed. 

As how with peccant angels late they saw ; 

And in their state, though firm, stood more confirm'd. 

He ended, and the Son gave signal high 
To the bright minister that watch'd ; he blew 
His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps 
When God descended, and perhaps once more 
To sound at general doom. The angelic blast 
Fill'd all the regions : from their blissful bow'rs 
Of Amaranthine shade, fountain or spring, 
By the waters of life, where e'er they sat 
In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 
Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
And took their seats ; till from His throne supreme 
The Almighty thus pronounced His sov'reign will. 

O Sons, like one of us man is become 
To know both good and evil, since his taste 
Of that defended^ fruit; but let him boast 
His knowledge of good lost, and evil got ; 
Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 
Good by itself, and evil not at all. 

1 Forbidden. 



^ 



<b 



PARADISE LOST. 

He sorrows now, repents and prays contrite, 

My motions in him, longer than they move, 

His heart I know how variable and vain 

Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand 

Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat, 

And live for ever, dream at least to live 

For ever, to remove him I decree, 

And send him from the garden forth to till 

The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil. 

Michael, this my behest have thou in charge, 

Take to thee from among the Cherubim 

Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the fiend, 

Or in behalf of man, or to invade 

Vacant possession, some new trouble raise : 

Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God 

Without remorse drive out the sinful pair. 

From hallow'd ground the unholy, and denounce 

To them and to their progeny from thence 

Perpetual banishment. Yet lest they faint 

At the sad sentence rigorously urged, 

For I behold them soften'd and with tears 

Bewailing their excess, all terror hide. 

If patiently thy bidding they obey, 

Dismiss them not disconsolate ; reveal 

To Adam what shall come in future days, 

As I shall thee enlighten ; intermix 

My cov'nant in the woman's seed renew'd ; 

So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace 

And on the east side of the garden place. 

Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 

Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame 

Wide waving, all approach far off to fright, 

And guard all passage to the Tree of Life : 

Lest paradise a receptacle prove 

To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey, 

With whose stol'n fruit man once more to delude. 



279 



^ 



4 



^ ^ 

280 PARADISE LOST. 

He ceased ; and the archangelic pow'r prepared 
For swift descent, with him the cohort bright 
Of watchful Cherubim ; four faces each 
Had, Hke a double Janus / all their shape 
Spangled with eyes more numerous than those 
Of Argus,^ and more Av^akeful than to drowse, 
Charm'd with Arcadian Pipe, the pastoral reed 
Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile, 
To resalute the world with sacred light 
Leucothea^ waked, and with fresh dews imbalm'd 
The earth, when Adam and first matron Eve 
Had ended now their orisons, and found 
Strength added from above, new hope to spring 
Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet link'd ; 
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renew'd. 

Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
The good which we enjoy from heav'n descends ; 
But that from us aught should ascend to heav'n 
So prevalent as to concern the mind 
Of God high-bless'd, or to incline His will. 
Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will prayer, 
Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne 
Ev'n to the seat of God. For since I sought 
By prayer th' offended Deity to appease, 
Kneel'd and before Him humbled all my heart, 
Methought I saw Him placable and mild, 
Bending His ear : persuasion in me grew 
That I was heard with favor ; peace return'd 
Home to my breast, and to my memory 
His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe ; 
Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now 



1 Ezek. X. 12, 14. 

2 Argus, the spy of Juno, who had a hundred eyes, was lulled to sleep and killed by 
Mercury (or Hermes), by the command of Jupiter. The Caduceus of Mercury is called 
an " opiate rod," because with it he could charm sleep on any eyelids he pleased. 

3 «' The white goddess," or Dawn. The same with Matuta, or early morning, in Latin. 
She preceded Aurora.— Newton. 

4- -^ -4" 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 2S1 

Assures me that the bitterness of death 
Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, 
Eve^ rightly call'd, mother of all mankind. 
Mother of all things living, since by thee 
Man is to live, and all things live for man. 

To whom th'us Eve with sad demeanor meek. 
Ill worthy I such title should belong 
To me transgressor, who, for thee ordain'd 
A help, became thy snare : to me reproach 
Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise : 
But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 
The source of life ; next favorable thou. 
Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st. 
Far other name deserving. But the field 
To labor calls us now with sweat imposed, 
Though after sleepless night ; for see, the morn. 
All unconcern'd, with our unrest, begins 
Her rosy progress smiling ; let us forth, 
I never from thy side henceforth to stray. 
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoin'd 
Laborious, till day droop ; while here we dwell, 
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks ? 
Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content. 

So spake, so wish'd much-humbled Eve ; but fate 
Subscribed not; nature first gave signs, impress'd 
On bird, beast, air ; air suddenly eclipsed 
After short blush of morn : nigh in her sight 
The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tow'r, 
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove : 
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace, 
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind; 
Direct to th' eastern gate was bent their flight. 

1 Eve signifies Life. 



a ^ ^ 

282 PARADISE LOST. 

Adam observed, and, with his eye the chase 
Pursuing, not unmoved to Eve thus spake. 

O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, 
Which heav'n by these mute signs in nature shows 
Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn 
Us haply too secure of our discharge 
From penalty, because from death released 
Some days-; how long, and wh^it till then our life, 
Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, 
And thither must return and be no more ? 
Why else this double object in our sight 
Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground, 
One way the selfsame hour ? Why in the east 
Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning light 
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white. 
And slow descends, with something heav'nly fraught ? 

He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly bands 
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, 
A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adam's eye. 
Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
Jacob in Mahanaim,^ where he saw 
The field pavilion'd with his guardians bright ; 
Nor that which on the flaming mount appear'd 
In Dothan, cover'd with a camp of fire,^ 
Against the Syrian king, who to surprise 
One man assassin-like had levy'd war, 
War unproclaim'd. The princely hierarch 
In their bright stand there left his powers to seize 
Possession of the garden ; he alone, 



1 Gen. xxxii. i, 2. 

2 Alluding to the King of Syria's attempt to take the prophet Elisha captive, and to the 
vision the prophet vouchsafed to obtain for his servant of the angel-guards which defended 
him. 2 Kings vi. 17. 



4" 




The heavenly bands 
Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
In Paradise. 



Page 282 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 283 

To find where Adam shelter'd, took his way, 
Not unperceived of Adam, who to Eve, 
While the great visitant approach'd, thus spake. 

Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
Of us will soon determine, or impose 
New Jaws to be observed ; for I descry 
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill 
One of the hcav'nly host, and by his gait 
None of the meanest : some great potentate, 
Or of the thrones above, such majesty 
Invests him coming; yet not terrible, 
That I should fear, nor sociably mild. 
As Raphael, that I should much confide ; 
But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend 
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire. 

He ended ; and th' archangel soon drew nigh, 
Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
Clad to meet man ; over his lucid arms 
A military vest of purple flow'd, 
Livelier than Melibcean,^'or the grain 
Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old 
In time of truce ; Iris ^ had dipp'd the woof; 
His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime 
In manhood where youth ended ; by his side 
As in a glistering zodiac hung the sword, 
Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear 
Adam bow'd low, he kingly from his state 
Inclined not, but his coming thus declared. 

Adam, heiv'n's high behest no preface needs. 
Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and death, 
Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress. 
Defeated of his seizure many days 
Giv'n thee of grace, wherein thou may'st repent 

1 Melibea, a city of Thessaly, was famous for dyeing the noblest purple. Sarra, the dye 
of Tyre. — Hume. Sar was the name of the fish from which the Tynan purple dye was 
extracted. 2 -phe rainbow hues are meant. 

(i^ ^ 



^ -^ 

284 PARADISE LOST. 

And one bad act with many deeds well done 
May'st cover: well may then thy Lord appeased 
Redeem thee quite from death's rapacious claim ; 
But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
Permits not: to remove thee I am come, 
And send thee from the garden forth to till 
The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil. 

He added not, for Adam at the news 
Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, 
That all his senses bound ; Eve, who unseen 
Yet all had heard, with audible lament 
Discover'd soon the place of her retire. 
O unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! 
Must I thus leave thee, paradise ? thus leave 
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 
Fit haunt of Gods ? where I had hope to spend, 
Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
That must be mortal to us both. O flow'rs, 
That never will in other climate grow, 
My early visitation, and my last 
At ev'n, which I bred up with tender hand 
From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye names, 
Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount ? 
Thee lastly, nuptial bow'r ! by me adorn'd 
With what to sight or smell was sweet ; from thee 
How shall I part, and whither wander down 
Into a lower world, to this obscure 
And wild ? how shall we breathe in other air 
Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ? 

Whom thus the angel interrupted mild. 
Lament not. Eve, but patiently resign 
What justly thou hast lost ; nor set thy heart, 
Thus over fond, on that which is not thine: 
Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes 
Thy husband, him to follow thou art bound ; 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 285 

Where he abides, think there thy native soil, 

Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp 
Recovering, and his scatter'd spirits return'd, 
To Michael thus his humble words address'd. 

Celestial, whether among the thrones, or named 
Of them the highest, for such of shape may seem 
Prince above princes, gently hast thou told 
Thy message, which might else in telling wound. 
And in performing end us ; what besides 
Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair, 
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring; 
Departure from this happy place, our sweet 
Recess, and only consolation left 
Familiar to our eyes, all places else 
Inhospitable appear and desolate, 
Nor knowing us nor known ; and if by prayer 
Incessant I could hope to change the will 
Of Him who all things can, I would not cease 
To weary him with my assiduous cries. 
But prayer against His absolute decree 
No more avails than breath against the wind, 
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth : 
Therefore to His great bidding I submit 
This most afflicts me, that departing hence 
As from His face I shall be hid, deprived 
His blessed count'nance ; here I could frequent. 
With worship, place by place, where he vouchsafed 
Presence divine, and to my sons relate. 
On this mount he appear'd, under this tree 
Stood visible, among these pines His voice 
I heard, here with Him at this fountain talk'd : 
So many grateful altars I would rear 
Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone 
Of lustre from the brook, in memory, 
Or monument to ages, and thereon 
Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flow'rs : 



-e? 



286 PARADISE LOST. 

In yonder nether world where shall I seek 
His bright appearances, or footstep trace ? 
For though I fled him angry, yet, recall'd 
To life prolong'd and promised race, I now 
Gladly behold though but His utmost skirts 
Of glory, and far off His steps adore. 

To whom thus Michael with regard benign. 
Adam, thou know'st heav'n His, and all the earth. 
Not this rock only ; His omnipresence fills 
Land, sea and air, and every kind that lives,^ 
Fomented by His virtual power and warm'd : 
All the earth He gave thee to possess and rule, 
No despicable gift; surmise not then 
His presence to these narrow bouads confined 
Of Paradise or Eden : this had been 
Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread 
All generations, and had hither come 
From all the ends of the earth, to celebrate 
And reverence thee, their great progenitor. 
But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
To dwell on even ground now with thy sons : 
Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain 
God is as here, and will be found alike 
Present, and of His presence many a sign 
Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
With goodness and paternal love, His face 
Express, and of His steps the track divine. 
Which that thou may'st believe. and be confirm'd 
Ere thou from hence depart, know, I am sent 
To show thee what shall come in future days 
To thee and to thy offspring; good with bad 
Expect to hear, supernal grace contending 
With sinfulness of men ; thereby to learn 
True patience, and to temper joy with fear 

1 Jeremiah xxiii. 24. 



^ ^ Q? 

PARADISE LOST. 2Z7 

And pious sorrow, equally inured 
By moderation either state to bear, 
Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead 
Safest thy life, and best prepared endure 
Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
This hill ; let Eve, for I have drench'd her eyes, 
Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wak'st, 
As once thou slept'st, while she to life was form'd. 

To whom thus Adam gratefully replied. 
Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path 
Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of heav'n submit, 
However chast'ning, to the evil turn 
My obvious breast, arming to overcome 
By suffering, and earn rest from labor won, 
If so I may attain. So both ascend 
In the visions of God. It was a hill 
Of Paradise the highest, from whose top 
The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken 
Stretch'd out to the amplest reach of prospect lay. 
Not higher that hill nor wider looking round, 
Whereon for different cause the tempter set 
Our second Adam^ in the wilderness, 
To show him all earth's kingdoms and their glory. 
His eye might there command wherever stood 
City of old or modern fame, the seat 
Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
Of Cambalu,^ seat of Cathaian Can, 
And Samarchand by Oxus, Temir's throne,^ 
To Paquin of Sinaean kings,* and thence 
To Agra and Lahor of great Mogul, 
Down to the golden Chersonese,'' or where 

1 I Cor. XV. 45. Matt. iv. 8. 2 The principal city of Cathay. 

3 The chief city of Zagathian Tartary. It was the royal residence of the great conqueror 
Tamerlane, or "Temir." 

^ Paquin, or Pekin, in China, the country of the ancient Sinoe.— Newton. 
5 The golden Chersonese is Malacca. 



-^ 



288 PARADISE LOST. 

The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 

In Hispahan, or where the Russian Czar 

In Mosco, or the Sultan in Bizance/ 

Turchestan-born ; nor could his eye not ken 

The empire of Negus ^ to his utmost port 

Ercoco, and the less maritime kings 

Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind,^ 

And Sofala thought Ophir, to the realm 

Of Congo, and Angola farthest south ; 

Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount 

The kingdoms of Almansor/ Fez, and Sus, 

Marocco, and Algiers, and Tremisen ; 

Or Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 
The world : in spirit perhaps he also saw 

Rich Mexico the seat of Motezume, 
And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
Of Atabalipa," and yet unspoil'd 
Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons '^ 
Call El Dorado ; but to nobler sights 
Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, 
Which that false fruit that promised clearer sight 
Had bred ; then purged with euphrasy ^ and rue 
The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 
And from the well of life three drops instill'd. 
So deep the power of these ingredients pierced, 
Ev'n to the inmost seat of mental sight. 
That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes, 

1 Byzantium, or Constantinople. The Turks came from Turkestan, in Tartary. 

2 Upper Ethiopia, or Abyssinia, whose king is still styled the Negus. Erco:o, or Erquieo, 
on the Red Sea. » All on the eastern coast of Africa. 

* Almansor was King of Barbary, where these states lie. 

' Atahuallpa, the last native Emperor or Inca, subdued by Pizarro. 

•• The Spaniards, So called from Geryon, an ancient King of Spain. El Dorado revives 
the memory of the explorers and navigators of Elizabeth's days. The whole inhabited 
world is summed up in this sweeping and glorious description of the vision of our Lord on 
the Mount. 

"' The herb called in English eyebright. Both it and rue were thought to have great 
medicinal power. 



n 



^ 



a ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 289 

Sunk down, and all his spirits became intranced : 
But him the gentle angel by the hand 
Soon raised, and his attention thus recall'd. 

Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd 
The excepted tree, nor with the snake conspired. 
Nor sinn'd thy sin ; yet from that sin derive 
Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds. 

His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field, 
Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
New reap'd, the other part sheep-walks and folds : 
r th' midst an altar as the land-mark stood. 
Rustic, of grassy sord ;^ thither anon 
A sweaty reaper^ from his tillage brought 
First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, 
Uncull'd as came to hand; a shepherd next 
More meek came with the firstlings of his flock 
Choicest and best ; then sacrificing laid 
The inwards and their fat, with incense strew'd. 
On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform 'd. 
His off' ring soon propitious fire from heav'n 
Consumed with nimble glance, and grateful steam ; 
The other's not, for his was not sincere : 
Whereat he inly raged, and, as they talk'd. 
Smote him into the midriff with a stone 
That beat out life ; he fell, and deadly pale 
Groan'd out his soul with gushing blood effused. 
Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
Dismay'd, and thus in haste to the angel cried. 

O teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n 
To that meek man, who well had sacrificed ; 
Is piety thus and pure devotion paid ? 

To whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied. 

1 Sward. See green-sord for green-sward in early editions of Shakespeare. ^ Gen. iv. 2. 

<^ ^ ^ 



-(b 

290 PARADISE LOST, 

These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
Out of thy loins ; the unjust the just hath slain, 
For envy that his brother's offering found 
From heav'n acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
Will be avenged, and the other's faith approved 
Lose no reward, though here thou see him die. 
Rolling in dust and gore. To which our sire : 

Alas, both for the deed and for the cause ! 
But have I now seen death ? is this the way 
I must return to native dust? O sight 
Of terror, foul and ugly to behold, 
Horrid to think, how horrible to feel ! 

To whom thus Michael. Death thou hast seen 
In his first shape on man ; but many shapes 
Of Death, and many are the ways that lead 
To his grim cave, all dismal ; yet to sense 
More terrible at the entrance than within. 
Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, 
By fire, flood, famine, by intemperance more 
In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall bring 
Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew 
Before thee shall appear; that thou may'st know 
What misery th' inabstinence of Eve 
Shall bring on men. Immediately a place 
Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, 
A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid 
Numbers of all diseased, all maladies 
Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, 
Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs. 
Intestine stone, and ulcer, colic pangs, 
Daemoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, 
And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
Marasmus, and wide- wasting pestilence, 
Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
Dire w is the tossing, deep the groans ; despair 

4>- -& 



f ~ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. . 291 

Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch ; 
And over them triumphant Death his dart 
Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invoked 
With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. 
Sight so deform, what heart of rock could long 
Dry-ey'd behold ? Adam could not, but wept, 
Though not of woman born ; compassion quell'd 
His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
A space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess, 
And scarce recovering words his plaint renew'd. 

O miserable mankind, to what fall 
Degraded, to what wretched state reserved ! 
Better end here unborn. Why is life giv'n 
To be thus wrested from us ? rather why 
Obtruded on us thus ? who, if we knew 
What we receive, would either not accept 
Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down, 
Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus 
The image of God in man, created once 
So goodly and erect, though faulty since. 
To such unsightly sufferings be debased 
Under inhuman pains ? Why should not man, 
Retaining still divine similitude 
In part, from such deformities be free, 
And for his Maker's image sake exempt ? 

Their Maker's image, answer'd Michael, then 
Forsook them, when themselves they villified 
To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took 
His image whom they served, a brutish vice. 
Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
Therefore so abject is their punishment, 
Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own, 
Or if His likeness, by themselves defaced. 
While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules 
To loathesome sickness, worthily, since they 
God's imag-e did not reverence in themselves. 




a- ^ 

292 PARADISE LOST. 

I yield it just, said Adam, and submit. 
But is there yet no other way, besides 
These painful passages, how we may come 
To death, and mix with our connatural dust ? 

There is, said Michael, if thou well observe 
The rule of not too much, by temperance taught 
In what thou eat'st and drink'st, seeking from thence 
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight; 
Till many years over thy head return, 
So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature. 
This is old age; but then thou must outlive 
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
To wither'd, weak, and gray : thy senses then 
Obtuse all taste of pleasure must forego 
To what thou hast, and for the air of youth, 
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
A melancholy damp of cold and dry 
To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
The balm of life. To whom our ancestor: 

Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
Life much, bent rather how I may be quit 
Fairest and easiest of this cumbrous charge, 
Which I must keep till my appointed day 
Of rend'ring up, and patiently attend 
My dissolution. Michael replied. 

Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou liv'st 
Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n : 
And now prepare thee for another sight. 
He look'd, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
Were tents of various hue ; by some were herds 
Of cattle grazing:^ others, whence the sound 
Of instruments that made melodious chime 



Jabal. See Gen. iv. 20. 



^ 



m 



a- ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 293 

Was heard, of harp and organ ; and who moved 

Their stops and chords was seen : his volant touch 

Instinct through all proportions low and high 

Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue,^ 

In other part stood one who, at the forge ^ 

Laboring, two massy clods of iron and brass 

Had melted, whether found where casual fire 

Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 

Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot 

To some cave's mouth, or whether wash'd by stream 

From underground ; the liquid ore he drain'd 

Into fit moulds prepared; from which he form'd 

First his own tools ; then, what might else be wrought 

Fusil or grav'n in metal. After these, 

But on the hither side, a different sort 

From the high neighboring hills, which was their seat, 

Down to the plain descended : by their guise 

Just men they seem'd,^ and all their study bent 

To worship God aright, and know His works 

Not hid, nor those things last, which might preserve 

Freedom and peace to men : they on the plain 

Long had not walk'd, when from the tents behold 

A bevy of fair women, richly gay 

In gems and wanton dress ; to the harp they sung 

Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on : 

The men, though grave, eyed them, and let their eyes 

Rove without rein, till, in the amorous net 

Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose : 

And now of love they treat, till the ev'ning star, 

Love's harbinger, appear'd ; then all in heat 

They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 

Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked ; 

With feast and music all the tents resound. 

Such happy interview and fair event 



Jubal. See Gen. iv. 21. ^ Tubal-cain. Gen. iv. 22. ■' The descendants of Seth. 



^ 



b- ^ 



C7 



294 PARADISE LOST. 

Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flow'rs, 
And charming symphonies attach'd the heart 
Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight, 
The bent of nature, which he thus express'd. 

True opener of mine eyes, prime angel bless'd, 
Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
Of peaceful days portends, than those two past; 
Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse, 
Here nature seems fulfill'd in all her ends. 

To whom thus Michael. Judge not what is best 
By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet, 
Created, as thou art, to nobler ends 
Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
Thos3 tents, thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents 
Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
Who slew his brother ; studious they appear 
Of arts that polish life, inventors rare. 
Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledged none. 
Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget ; 
For that fair female troup thou saw'st, that seem'd 
Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
Yet empty of all good wherein consists 
Woman's domestic honor and chief praise; 
Bred only and completed to the taste 
Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, 
To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye. 
To these that sober race of men, whose lives 
Religious titled them the sons of God, 
Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame 
Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 
Of these fair atheists; and now swim in joy 
(Erelong to swim at large) and laugh ; for which 
The world erelong a world of tears must weep. 

To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft ; 
O pity and shame, that they, who to live well 



4 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 

Enter'd so fair, should turn aside to tread 
Paths indirect, or in the midway faint ! 
But still I see the tenor of man's woe" 
Holds on the same, from woman to begin. 

From man's effeminate slackness it b'ecrins 
Said the anorel, who should better hold his place 
By wisdom and superior gifts received 
But now prepare thee for another scene. 

He look'd, and saw wide territory spread 
Before him, towns, and rural works between 
Cities of men with lofty gates and tow'rs 
Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war 
Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise • ' 
Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed 
^inglQ, or in array of battle ranged 
Both horse and foot, nor idly musfring stood • 
One way a band select from forage drives 
A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine 
From a fat meadow ground ; or fleecy flo'ck 
Ewes and their bleating lambs, over the plain 
Their booty; scarce with life the shepherds fly 
But call m aid, which makes a bloody fray ' 
With cruel tournament the squadrons join • 
Where cattle pastured late, now scatter'd lies 
With carcasses and arms th' ensan-uin'd field 
Deserted. Others to a city strong ' 

Lay siege, encamp'd. by battery, s'cale. and mine 
Assaulting; others from the wall defend 
With dart and javelin, stones and sulphurous fire • 
On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds. 
In other part the sceptered heralds call 
To council in the city gates; anon 
Gray-headed men and grave, with warriors mix'd 
Assemble, and harangues are heard ; but soon ' 
In factious opposition; till at last 



67 

295 



296 PARADISE LOST. 

Of middle age one rising-/ eminent 
In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong 
Of justice, of rehgion, truth and peace, 
And judgment from above : him old and young 
Exploded, and had seized with violent hands, 
Had not a cloud descending snatch'd him thence 
Unseen amid the throng : so violence 
Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, 
Through all the plain, and refuge none was found. 
Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
Lamenting turn'd full sad ; O ! what are these, 
Death's ministers, not men, who thus deal death 
Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
Ten thousand-fold the sin of him who slew 
His brother; for of whom such massacre 
Make they but of their brethren, men of men ? 
But who was that just man, whom had not heav'n 
Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost ? 

To whom thus Michael. These are the product 
Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'st; 
Where good with bad were match'd, who of themselves 
Abhor to join ; and by imprudence mix'd 
Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
Such were these giants, men of high renown ; 
For in those days might only shall be admired, 
And valor and heroic virtue call'd : 
To overcome in battle, and subdue 
Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
Manslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
Of human glory, and for glory done 
Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, 
Patrons of mankind, Gods, and sons of Gods, 
Destroyers rightlier call'd and plagues of men. 
Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth, 

1 Enoch, said to be of middle age, because he was translated when he was only 365 years 
old, a middle age then. Gen. v. 23. — Richardson. 




Began to build a vessel of huge bulk. 



Page 297. 



I 

PARADISE LOST. 297 

And what most merits fame in silence hid. 

But he, the seventh from thee, whom thou beheld'st 

The only righteous in a world perverse. 

And therefore hated, therefore so beset 

With foes for daring single to be just, 

And utter odious truth, that God would come 

To judge them with his saints; him the most High 

Wrapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds 

Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God 

High in salvation and the climes of bliss. 

Exempt from death : to show thee what reward 

Awaits the good, the rest what punishment : 

Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold : 

He look'd, and saw the face of things quite changed. 
The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar ; 
All now was turn'd to jollity and game. 
To luxury and riot, feast and dance. 
Marrying or prostituting as befell, 
Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
Allured them ; thence from cups to civil broils. 
At length a reverend sire^ among them came, 
And of their doings great dislike declared. 
And testified against their ways ; he oft 
Frequented their assemblies, whereso met 
Triumphs, or festivals, and to them preach'd 
Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
In prison under judgments imminent: 
But all in vain : which when he saw, he ceased 
Contending, and removed his tents far off:^ 
Then from the mountain hewing timber tall. 
Began to build a vessel of huge bulk. 
Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth, 
Smear'd round with pitch, and in the side a door 

1 Noah. See i Peter iii. 19. 

2 Noah's removal to another land is taken from Josephus. Antiq. fud. lib. i. c. 3. 

#- -^ 



^ ' -^ 

298 PARADISE LOST. 

Contrived, and of provisions laid in large 
For man and beast : when lo, a wonder strange ! 
Of every beast, and bird, and insect small. 
Came sevens, and pairs, and enter'd in, as taught 
Their order : last the sire and his three sons 
With their four wives ; and God made fast the door. 
Meanwhile the south wind rose, and, with black wings 
Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove 
From under heav'n ; the hills to their supply 
Vapor, and exhalation dusk and moist 
Sent up amain : and now the thicken'd sky 
Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain 
Impetuous, and continued till the earth 
No more was seen ; the floating vessel swum 
* Uplifted ; and secure with beaked prow 
Rode tilting o'er the waves, all dwellings else 
Flood overwhelm'd, and them with all their pomp 
Deep under water roU'd ; sea cover'd sea, 
Sea without shore, and in their palaces, 
Where luxury late reign'd, sea-monsters whelp'd 
And stabled ; of mankind, so numerous late. 
All left in one small bottom swum embark'd. 
How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 
The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, 
Depopulation ! thee another flood, 
Of tears and sorrow a flood thee also drown'd. 
And sunk thee as thy sons ; till gently rear'd 
By the angel, on thy feet, thou stood'st at last, 
Though comfortless, as when a father mourns 
His children, all in view destroy'd at once ; 
And scarce to the angel utter'dst thus thy plaint. 

O visions ill foreseen ! better had I 
Lived ignorant of future, so had borne 
My part of evil only, each day's lot 
Enough to bear ; those now, that were dispensed 
The burden of many ages, on me light 

d^ ^ 



^ -^ 

PARADISE LOST. 299 

At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 

Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 

With thought that they must be. Let no man seek 

Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall 

Him or his children ; evil he may be sure. 

Which neither his foreknowing can prevent ; 

And he the future evil shall no less 

In apprehension than in substance feel, 

Grievous to bear : but that care now is past, 

Man is not whom to warn ; those few escaped 

Famine and anguish will at last consume 

Wand'ring that wat'ry desert. I had hope 

When violence was ceased, and war on earth. 

All would have then gone well ; peace would have crown'd 

With length of happy days the race of man ; 

But I was far deceived ; for now I see 

Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 

How comes it thus? unfold, celestial guide. 

And whether here the race of man will end. 

To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou saw'st 
In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they 
First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; 
Who having spill'd much blood, and done much waste, 
Subduing nations, and achieved thereby 
Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey, 
Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, 
Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride 
Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
The conquered also and enslaved by war 
Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose 
And fear of God, from whom their piety feign'd 
In sharp contest of battle found no aid 
Against invaders ; therefore cool'd in zeal 
Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure, 
Worldly, or dissolute, on what their lords 



S- -67 



300 



PARADISE LOST. 

Shall leave them to enjoy, for the earth shall bear 

More than enough, that temperance may be tried : 

So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved, 

Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot; 

One man except, the only son of light 

In a dark age, against example good, 

Against allurement, custom, and a world 

Offended ; fearless of reproach and scorn, 

Or violence, he of their wicked ways 

Shall them admonish, and before them set 

The paths of righteousness, how much more safe 

And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come 

On their impenitence ; and shall return 

Of them derided, but of God observed 

The one just man alive ; by his command 

Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld'st, 

To save himself and household from amidst 

A world devote to universal wreck. 

No sooner he with them of man and beast 

Select for life shall in the ark be lodged 

And sheltered round, but all the cataracts 

Of heav'n set open on the earth shall pour 

Rain day and night, all fountains of the deep 

Broke up shall heave the ocean to usurp 

Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise 

Above the highest hills : then shall this mount 

Of Paradise by might of waves be moved 

Out of his place, push'd by the horned flood, 

With all his verdure spoil'd, and trees adrift, 

Down the great river to the op'ning gulf, 

And there take root, an island salt and bare, 

The haunt of seals, and ores, and sea-mews' clang ; 

To teach thee that God attributes to place 

No sanctity, if none be thither brought • 

By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 

And now what further shall ensue, behold. 

^ 4^ 



^ Q, 

PARADISE LOST. 301 

He look'd, and saw the ark hull on the flood, 
Which now abated, for the clouds were fled, 
Driv'n by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry 
Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decay'd ; 
And the clear sun on his wide wat'ry glass 
Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, 
As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink 
From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopp'd 
His sluices, as the heav'n his windows shut. 
The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground 
Fast on the top of some high mountain fix'd. 
And now the tops of hills as rocks appear; 
With clamor thence the rapid currents drive 
Towards the retreating sea their furious tide. 
Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, 
And after him the surer messenger, 
A dove, sent forth once and again to spy 
Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light; 
The second time returning, in his bill 
An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign : 
Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark 
The ancient sire descends with all his train ; 
Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, 
Grateful to heav'n, over his head beholds 
A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow 
Conspicuous with three listed colors gay, 
Betok'ning peace from God, and cov'nant new. 
Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad 
Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broke forth. 

O thou, who future things canst represent 
As present, heav'nly instructor, I revive 
At this last sight, assured that man shall live 
With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
Far less I now lament for one whole world 
Of wicked sons destroy'd, than I rejoice 

^ ^ 



^ -^ 

302 PARADISE LOST. 

For one man found so perfect and so just, 

That God vouchsafes to raise another world 

From him, and all his anger to forget. 

But say, what mean those color'd streaks in heav'n, 

Distended as the brow of God appeased ? 

Or serve they as a flow'ry verge to bind 

The fluid skirts of that same wat'ry cloud 

Lest it again dissolve and show'r the earth ? 

To whom the archangel. Dext'rously thou aim'st; 
So willingly doth God remit His ire, 
Though late repenting Him of man depraved, 
Grieved at His heart, when looking down He saw 
The whole earth fiU'd with violence, and all flesh 
Corrupting each their way ; yet, those removed, 
Such grace shall one just man find in His sight, 
That He relents, not to blot out mankind, 
And makes a covenant never to destroy 
The earth again by flood, nor let the sea 
Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world 
With man therein or beast ; but when he brings 
Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
His triple-color'd bow, whereon to look, 
And call to mind his cov'nant : day and night, 
Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost. 
Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new. 
Both heav'n and earth, wherein the just shall dwell. 



^ _____ — ___ ^ 



^ ^ 

PARADISE LOST. 303 



BOOK XII. 

The Argument. 

The angel Michael continues from the flood to relate what shall succeed ; then, in the 
mention of Abraham, comes by degrees to explain, who that seed of the woman shall be 
which was promised Adam and Eve in the fall; his incarnation, death, resurrection, and 
ascension; the state of the church till his second coming. Adam, greatly satisfied, and 
recomforted by these relations and promises, descends the hill with Michael ; wakens Eve, 
who all this while had slept, but with gentle dreams composed to quietness of mind and 
submission. Michael in either hand leads them out of paradise, the fiery sword waving 
behmd them, and the Cherubim taking their stations to guard the place. 

As one who in his journey bates at noon, 
Though bent on speed, so here th' archangel paused 
Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restored ; 
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 
Then with transition sweet new speech resumes. 

Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end; 
And man as from a second stock proceed. 
Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceive 
Thy mortal sight to fail : objects divine 
Must needs impair and weary human sense : 
Henceforth what is to come I will relate, 
Thou tlierefore give due audience, and attend. 

This second source of men, while yet but few, 
And while the dread of judgment past remains 
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
With some regard to what is just and right 
Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace, 
Laboring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
Corn, wine, and oil ; and from the herd, or flock, 
Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid. 
With large wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred feast, 
Shall spend their days in joy unblamed, and dwell 
Long time in peace by families and tribes 
Under paternal rule ; till one shall rise 



a- -^ 

304 PARADISE LOST. 

Of proud ambitious heart, who not content 
With fair equality, fraternal state. 
Will arrogate dominion undeserved 
Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
Concord and law of nature from the earth ; 
Hunting, and men not beasts shall be his game, 
With war and hostile snare such as refuse 
Subjection to his empire tyrannous. 
A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled ^ 
Before the Lord, as in despite of heav'n. 
Or from heav'n claiming second sov'reignty; 
And from rebellion shall derive his name,^ 
Though of rebellion others he accuse. 
He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 
With him or under him to tyrannize. 
Marching from Eden towards the west,^ shall find 
The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 
Boils out from under ground, the mouth of hell : 
Of brick and of that stuff they cast to build 
A city and tow'r, whose top may reach, to heav'n. 
And get themselves a name, lest far disperst 
In foreign lands their memory be lost. 
Regardless whether good or evil fame. 
But God, who oft descends to visit men 
Unseen, and through their habitations walks, 
To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 
Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 
Obstruct Heav'n-tow'rs, and in derision sets 
Upon their tongues a various spirit, to rase 
Quite out their native language, and instead 
To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 

1 Nimrod.who is supposed to have been the first whoassiimid kingly power. See Gen x.9. 

2 The name Nimrod is derived from a Hebrew word that signifies to rebel. 

3 "And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the 
land of Shinar. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar." Gen. 
xi. 2, &c. 

^ ^ 



^ 

PARADISE LOST. 305 

Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud 

Among the builders, each to other calls 

Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage. 

As mock'd they storm ; great laughter was in heav'n, 

And looking down, to see the hubbub strange 

And hear the din ; thus was the building left 

Ridiculous, and the work Confusion ' named. 

Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeased. 
O execrable son ! so to aspire 
Above his brethren, to himself assuming 
Authority usurp'd, from God not giv'n. 
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl. 
Dominion absolute ; that right we hold 
By His donation ; such title to Himself 
Reserving, human left fiom human free. 
But this usurper his encroachment proud 
Stays not on man ; to God his tower intends 
Siege and defiance. Wretched man ! what food 
W^ill he convey up thither to sustain 
Himself and his rash army, where thin air 
Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, 
And famish him of breath, if not of bread ? 

To whom thus Michael. Justly thou abhorr'st 
That son, who on the quiet state of men 
Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue 
Rational liberty ; yet know withal, 
Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being : 
Reason in man obscured, or not obey'd. 
Immediately inordinate desires 
And upstart passions catch the government 
From reason, and to servitude reduce 
Man till then free. Therefore, since he permits 

^ Babel signifies confusion, in Hebrew. 
20 



a \ -^ 

306 PARADISE LOST. 

Within himself unworthy powers to reign 

Over free reason, God in judgment just 

Subjects him from without to violent lords 

Who oft as undeservedly enthral 

His outward freedom. Tyranny must be, 

Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. 

Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 

From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, 

But justice, and some fatal curse annex'd, 

Deprives them of their outward liberty, 

Their inward lost : witness the irreverent son 

Of him who built the ark, who for the shame 

Done to his father, heard this heavy curse, 

Servant of servants, on his vicious race,^ 

Thus will this latter, as the former world, 

Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last. 

Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw 

His presence from among them, and avert 

His holy eyes ; resolving from thenceforth 

To leave them to their own polluted ways ; 

And one peculiar nation to select 

From all the rest, of whom to be invoked, 

A nation from one faithful man^ to spring : 

Him on this side Euphrates yet residing 

Bred up in idol-worship '} O that men, 

(Canst thou believe ?) should be so stupid grown, 

While yet the patriarch lived, who scaped the flood. 

As to forsake the living God, and fall 

To worship their own work in wood and stone 

For Gods ; yet him God the most high vouchsafes 

To call by vision from his father's house. 

His kindred, and false Gods, into a land 

1 Gen. ix. 22-25. ''■ Abraham. 

2 Terah, Abraham's father, was an idolater. See Josh. xxiv. 2. Jewish tradition repre- 
sents the father and grandfather of Abraham to have been carvers of idols. Terah was 
born in Noah's lifetime. 

. ^ 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 307 

Which He will show him, and from him will raise 

A mighty nation, and upon him show'r 

His benediction so, that in his seed 

All nations shall be bless'd ; he straight obeys, 

Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes. 

I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith 

He leaves his Gods, his friends, and native soil, 

Ur of ChaldiEa, passing now the ford 

To Haran, after him a cumbrous train 

Of herds, and flocks, and numerous servitude; 

Not wand'ring poor, but trusting all his wealth 

With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown. 

Canaan he now attains, I see his tents 

Pitch'd about Sechem, and the neighboring plain 

Of Moreh ; there by promise he receives 

Gift to his progeny of all that land ; 

From Hamath northward to the desert south. 

Things by their names I call, though yet unnamed, 

From Hermon east to the great western sea. 

Mount Hermon, yonder sea, each place behold 

In prospect, as I point them ; on the shore 

Mount Carmel ; here the double-fountcd stream 

Jordan, true limit eastward ; but his sons 

Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills. 

This ponder, that all nations of the earth 

Shall in his seed be blessed ; by that seed 

Is meant thy great Deliverer, who shall bruise 

The serpent's head ; whereof to thee anon 

Plainlier shall be reveal'd. This patriarch bless'd, 

Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 

A son, and of his son a grandchild, leaves. 

Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown. 

The grandchild, with twelve sons increased departs 

From Canaan, to a land hereafter call'd 

Egypt, divided by the river Nile ; 

See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 



^ 



508 PARADISE LOST. 

Into the sea. To sojourn in that land 

He comes, invited by a younger son 

In time of dearth ; a son whose worthy deeds 

Raise him to be the second in that realm 

Of Pharaoh : there he dies, and leaves his race 

Growing into a nation ; and now grown 

Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks 

To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests * 

Too numerous ; whence of guests he makes them slaves 

Inhospitably, and kills their infant males : 

Till by two brethren (those two brethren call 

Moses and Aaron), sent from God to claim 

His people from enthralment, they return 

With glory and spoil back to their promised land. 

But first the lawless tyrant, who denies 

To know their God, or message to regard, 

Must be compell'd by signs and judgments dire; 

To blood unshed the rivers must be turn'd ; 

Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill 

With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land; 

His cattle must of rot and murrain die ; 

Blotches and blains must all his flesh imboss. 

And all his people ; thunder mix'd with hail, 

Hail mix'd with fire, must rend the Egyptian sky, 

And wheel on the earth, devouring where it rolls ; 

What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 

A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 

Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green : 

Darkness must overshadow all his bounds. 

Palpable darkness, and blot out three days ; 

Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born 

Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 

This river-dragon^ tamed at length submits 



1 An allusion to the crocodile, the Egyptian animal. Ezekiel also styles Pharoah " the 
great dragon that lieih in the midst of his rivers." 



^ : e? 

FARAD/SB LOST. 309 

To let his sojourners depart, and oft 

Humbles his stubborn heart ; but still as ice 

More harden'd after thaw, till, in his rage 

Pursuing whom he late dismiss'd, the sea 

Swallows him with his host, but them lets pass 

As on dry land between two crystal walls, 

Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 

Divided, till his rescued gain their shore : 

Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend, 

Though present in His angel, who shall go 

Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire. 

By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire. 

To guide them in their journey, and remove 

Behind them, while the obdurate king pursues: 

All night he will pursue, but his approach 

Darkness defends between till morning watch ; 

Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud 

God looking forth will trouble all his host, 

And craze their chariot wheels : when by command 

Moses once more his potent rod extends 

Over the sea; the sea his rod obeys ; 

On their imbattled ranks the waves return. 

And overwhelm their war. The race elect 

Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance 

Through the wild Desert ; not the readiest way, 

Lest ent'ring on the Canaanite alarm'd 

War terrify them inexpert, and fear 

Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 

Inglorious life with servitude ; for life 

To noble and ignoble is more sweet 

Untrain'd in arms, where rashness leads not on. 

This also shall they gain by their delay 

In the wide wilderness, there they shall found 

Their government, and their great senate choose 

Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordain'd. 

God from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top 

^ , 4^ 



^i^-^ ^ -^ 

310 PARADISE LOST. 

Shall tremble, He descending, will Himself 

In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets' sound 

Ordain them laws ; part, such as appertain 

To civil justice ; part, religious rites 

Of sacrifice, informing them by types 

And shadows of that destined seed to bruise 

The serpent, by what means He shall achieve 

Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 

To mortal ear is dreadful : they beseech 

That Moses might report to them His will 

And terror cease ; He grants what they besought, 

Instructed that to God is no access 

Without mediator, whose high office now 

Moses in figure bears, to introduce 

One greater, of whose day he shall foretell ; 

And all the prophets in their age the times 

Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus laws and rites 

Establish'd, such delight hath God in men 

Obedient to His will, that He vouchsafes 

Among them to set up His tabernacle. 

The Ho'y One with mortal men to dwell. 

By His prescript a sanctuary is framed 

Of cedar, overlaid with gold, therein 

An ark, and in the ark His testimony, 

The records of His cov'nant, over these 

A mercy-seat of gold between the wings 

Of two bright Cherubim ; before Him burn 

Seven lamps, as in a zodiac representing 

The heav'nly fires ; over the tent a cloud 

Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night, 

Save when they journey, and at length they come 

Conducted by His angel to the land 

Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 

Were long to tell, how many battles fought, 

How many kings destroy'd, and kingdoms won ; 

Or how the sun shall in mid heav'n stand still 

^ ^ -^ 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 311 

A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 
Man's voice commanding, — Sun in Gibeon stand, 
And thou moon in the vale of Aialon, 
Till Israel overcome; — so call the third 
From Abraham, son of Isaac, and from him 
His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win. 

Here Adam interposed. O sent from heav'n, 
Enlightener of my darkness, gracious things 
Thou hast reveal'd, those chiefly which concern 
Just Abraham and his seed : now first I find 
Mine eyes true op'ning, and my heart much eased, 
Erewhile perplex'd with thoughts what would become 
Of me and all mankind; but now I see 
His day, in whom all nations shall be bless'd ; 
Favor unmerited by me, who sought 
Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
This yet I apprehend not, why to those 
Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth 
So many and so various laws are giv'n : 
So many laws argue so many sins 
Among them ; how can God with such reside ? 

To whom thus Michael. Doubt not but that sin 
Will reign among them, as of thee begot ; 
And therefore was law given them to evince 
Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
Sin against law to fight ; that when they see 
Law can discover sin, but not remove, 
Save by those shadowy expiations weak. 
The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
Some blood more precious must be paid for man, 
Just for unjust, that in such righteousness 
To them b)^ faith imputed they may find 
Justification towards God, and peace 
Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies 
Cannot appease, nor man the moral part 
Perform, and not performing cannot live. 



4 



a- 



^ 



312 



PARADISE LOST. 

So law appears imperfect, and but giv'n 

With purpose to resign them in full time 

Up to a better covenant, disciplined 

From shadowy types to truth, from flesh to spirit. 

From imposition of strict laws to free 

Acceptance of large grace, from servile fear 

To filial, works of law to works of faith. 

And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 

Highly beloved, being but the minister 

Of law, his people into Canaan led; 

But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call. 

His name and office bearing, who shall quell 

The adversary serpent, and bring back 

Through the world's wilderness long wander'd man 

Safe to eternal paradise of rest. 

Meanwhile they in their earthly Canaan placed 

Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins 

National interrupt their public peace, 

Provoking God to raise them enemies, 

From whom as oft He saves them penitent, 

By judges first, then under kings ; of whom 

The second, both for piety renown'd 

And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 

Irrevocable, that his regal throne 

Forever shall endure ; the like shall sing 

All prophesy, that of the royal stock 

Of David, so I name this king, shall rise 

A son, the woman's seed to thee foretold, 

Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust . 

All nations, and to kings foretold, of kings 

The last, for of his reign shall be no end. 

But first a long succession must ensue, 

And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed, 

The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 

Wand'ring, shall in a glorious temple enshrine. 

Such follow him, as shall be register'd 



f 



-^ 



PARADISE LOST. 313 

Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scroll ; 

Whose foul idolatries, and other faults 

Heap'd to the popular sum, will so incense 

God, as to leave them, and expose their land, 

Their city, His temple, and His Holy ark, 

With all His sacred things, a scorn and prey 

To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw'st 

Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd. 

There in captivity He lets them dwell 

The space of seventy years, then brings them back, 

Rememb'ring mercy and His cov'nant sworn 

To David stablish'd as the days of heav'n. 

Return'd from Babylon by leave of kings 

Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 

They first re-edify, and for awhile 

In mean estate live moderate, till grown 

In wealth and multitude, factious they grow ; 

But first among the priests dissension springs,* 

Men who attend the altar, and should most 

Endeavor peace : their strife pollution brings 

Upon the temple itself: at last they seize 

The sceptre, and regard not David's sons f 

Then lose it to a stranger,^ that the true 

Anointed king Messiah might be born 

Barr'd of his right; yet at his birth a star 

Unseen before in heav'n proclaims him come ; 

And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 



J The murder of Jesus, or Joshua, in the Temple by his brother John, the high priest, is 
perhaps alluded to here. Bagoas, the general of Artaxerxes' army, had promised to pro- 
cure Jesus the high priesthood. In confidence of the Persian's support. Jesus insulted his 
brother in the temple, and so provoked him that the latter slew him. Thus the Temple 
was polluted by fratricide, committed by the high priest himself. The old commentators 
suppose, however, that the passage alludes to the quarrels between^ason and Menelaus for 
the high priesthood which led to the profanation of the Temple by Aniiochus Epiphanes. 

- Aristobulus, a M.iccabee, or Asmonean, erected the theocratic republic of the Jews into 
a kingdom 481 years after the return from the Babylonian captivity.. 

3 Herod, an Idumean or Edoinite. 



^ ^ 

314 PARADISE LOST. 

His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold : 

His place of birth a solemn angel tells 

To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night ; 

They gladly thither haste, and by a choir 

Of squadron'd angels hear his carol sung. 

A virgin is his mother, but his sire 

The power of the Most High ; he shall ascend 

The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 

With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the heav'ns.^ 

He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy 
Surcharged, as had like grief been dew'd in tears, 
Without the vent of words, which these he breathed. 

O prophet of glad tidings, finisher 
Of utmost hope! now clear I understand 
What oft my steadiest thoughts have search'd in vain, 
Why our great expectation should be call'd 
The seed of woman : Virgin Mother, hail, 
High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my loins 
Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
Of God most high ; so God with man unites. 
Needs must the serpent now his capital bruise 
Expect with mortal pain : say where and when 
Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the victor's heel. 

To whom thus Michael. Dream not of their fight, 
As of a duel, or the local wounds 
Of head or heel : not therefore joins the Son 
Manhood to Godhood, with more strength to foil 
Thy enemy ; nor so is overcome 
Satan, whose fall from heav'n, a deadlier bruise, 
Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound ; 
Which He, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure. 
Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
In thee and in thy seed : nor can this be, 
But by fulfilling that which thou didst want. 



1 Psalm ii. 8. Isaiah ix. 7. Zech. ix. 9. 

^^- ^ ^ 



f~ — Qp 

PARADISE LOST. 315 

Obedience to the law of God, imposed 

On penalty of death, and suffering death, 

The penalty to thy transgression due, 

And due to theirs which out of thine will grow: 

So only can high justice rest appaid. 

The law of God exact Ke shall fulfil, 

Both by obedience and by love, though love 

Alone fulfil the law ; thy punishment 

He shall endure by coming in the flesh 

To a reproachful life and cursed death, 

Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 

In his redemption ; and that His obedience 

Imputed becomes theirs by faith; His merits 

To save them, not their own (though legal) works. 

For this He shall live hated, be blasphemed, 

Seized on by force, judged, and to death condemn'd 

A shameful and accursed, nail'd to the cross 

By His own nation, slain for bringing life: 

But to the cross He nails thy enemies, 

The law that is against thee, and the sins 

Of all mankind, with Him there crucified, 

Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 

In this His satisfaction: so He dies, 

But soon revives, death over Him no power 

Shall long usurp ; ere the third dawning light 

Return, the stars of morn shall see Him rise 

Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light, 

Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, 

His death for man, as many as offcr'd life 

Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 

By faith not void of works. This godlike act 

Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died, 

In sin forever lost from life ; this act 

Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength 

Defeating sin and death, his two main arms, 

And fix far deeper in his head their stings, 

'^ . 



^ -^ 

316 PARADISE LOST. 

Than temporal death shall bruise the victor's heel, 

Or theirs whom He redeems, a death, like sleep 

A gentle wafting to immortal life. 

Nor after resurrection shall He stay 

Longer on earth than certain times to appear 

To His disciples, men who in His life 

Still foUow'd Him ; to them shall leave in charge 

To teach all nations what of Him they learn'd 

And His salvation ; them who shall believe 

Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 

Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 

Pure, and in mind prepared, if so befall, 

For death, like that which the redeemer died. 

All nations they shall teach ; for from that day 

Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins 

Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons 

Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world : 

So in his seed all nations shall be bless'd. 

Then to the heav'n of heav'ns He shall ascend 

With victory, triumphing through the air 

Over His foes and thine; there shall surprise 

The serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains 

Through all his realm, and there confounded leave ; 

Then enter into glory, and resume 

His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 

Above all names in heav'n ; and thence shall come, 

When this world's dissolution shall be ripe. 

With glory and power to judge both quick and dead, 

To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward 

His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 

Whether in heav'n or earth ; for then the earth 

Shall all be paradise, far happier place 

Than this of Eden, and far happier days. 

So spake the Archangel Michael, then paused, 
As at the world's great period ; and our sire 
Replete with joy and wonder thus replied. 

^ : ^ 



^- 



^ 



PARADISE LOST. 

O goodness infinite, goodness immense! 
That all this good of evil shall produce, 
And evil turn to good ; more wonderful 
Than that which by creation first brought forth 
Light out of darkness ! full of doubt I stand. 
Whether I should repent me now of sin 
By me done and occasion'd, or rejoice 
Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring. 
To God more glory, more good will to men 
From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
But say, if our Deliverer up to heav'n 
Must reascend, what will betide the few 
His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd, 
The enemies of truth ; who then shall guide 
His people, who defend ? will they not deal 
Worse with His followers than with Him they dealt? 

Be sure they will, said the angel ; but from heav'n 
He to His own a Comforter will send, 
The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
His spirit within them, and the law of faith 
Working through love upon their hearts shall write, 
To guide them in all truth, and also arm 
With spiritual armor, able to resist 
Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts, 
What man can do against them, not afraid, 
Though to the death, against such cruelties 
With inward consolations recompensed, 
And oft supported so as shall amaze 
Their proudest persecutors : for the Spirit 
Pour'd first on his apostles, whom he sends 
To evangelize the nations, then on all 
Baptized, shall them with wondrous gifts indue, 
To speak all tongues, and do all miracles. 
As did their Lord before them. Thus they win 
Great numbers of each nation to receive 
With joy the tidings brought from heav'n : at length 



3^7 



-e 



s- 



^ 



318 PARADISE LOST. 

Their ministry perform'd, and race well run, 

Their doctrine and their story written left, 

They die ; but in their room, as they forewarn, 

Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 

Who all the sacred mysteries of heav'n 

To their own vile advantages shall turn 

Of lucre and ambition, and the truth 

With superstitions and traditions taint, 

Left only in those written records pure, 

Though not but by the Spirit understood. 

Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, 

Places, and titles, and with these to join 

Secular power, though feigning still to act 

By spiritual, to thf;mselves appropriating 

The Spirit of God, promised alike and giv'n 

To all believers; and from that pretence 

Spiritual laws by carnal powers shall force 

On every conscience ; laws which none shall find 

Left them inroU'd, or what the Spirit within 

Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 

But force the Spirit of Grace itself, and bind 

His consort Liberty ? what, but unbuild 

His living temples, built by faith to stand. 

Their own faith, not another's? for on earth 

Who against faith and conscience can be heard 

Infallible ? yet many will presume : 

Whence heavy persecution shall arise 

On all who in the worship persevere 

Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part, 

Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 

Religion satisfied ; truth shall retire 

Bestuck with slanderous darts, and works of faith 

Rarely be found : so shall the world go on. 

To good malignant, to bad men benign, 

Under her own weight groaning till the day 

Appear of restoration to the just, 



^ 



4 



^ (b 

PARADISE LOST. 319 

And vengeance to the wicked, at return 
Of Him so lately promised to thy aid, 
The woman's seed, obscurely then foretold. 
Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord, 
Last in the clouds from heav'n to be reveal'd 
In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
Satan with his perverted world, then raise 
From the conflagrant mass, purged and refined, 
New heav'ns, new earth, ages of endless date 
Founded in righteousness, and peace, and love. 
To bring forth fruits joy and eternal bliss. 

He ended; and thus Adam last replied. 
How soon hath thy prediction, Seer bless'd. 
Measured this transient world, the race of time 
Till time stand fix'd ! beyond is all abyss, 
Eternity, whose end no eye can reach : 
Greatly instructed I shall hence depart, 
Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain ; 
Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 
Henceforth I learn that to obey is best. 
And love with fear the only God, to walk 
As in His presence, ever to observe 
His providence, and on Him sole depend, 
Merciful over all His works, with good 
Still overcoming evil ; and by small 
Accomplishing great things, by things deem'd weak 
Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise 
By simply meek ; that suffering for truth's sake 
Is fortitude to highest victory, 
And to the faithful death the gate of life ; 
Taught this by his example, whom I now 
Acknowledge my Redeemer ever bless'd. 

To whom thus also th' angel last replied. 
This having learn'd, thou hast attain'd the sum 



4 



a-- ^ ^ 

320 PARADISE LOST. 

Of wisdom ; hope no higher, though all the stars 

Thou knew'st by name, and all th' ethereal powers, 

All secrets of the deep, all nature's works, 

Or works of God in heav'n, air, earth, or sea, 

And all the riches of this world enjoy'dst, 

And all the rule, one empire ; only add 

Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, 

Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, 

By name to come call'd charity, the soul 

Of all the rest; then wilt thou not be loth 

To leave this paradise, but shalt possess 

A paradise within thee, happier far. 

Let us descend now, therefore, from this top 

Of speculation ; for the hour precise 

Exacts our parting hence; and see the guards, 

By me encamp'd on yonder hill, expect 

Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword, 

In signal of remove, waves fiercely round ; 

We may no longer stay : go, waken Eve ; 

Her also I with gentle dreams have calm'd 

Portending good, and all her spirits composed 

To meek submission : thou at season fit 

Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard. 

Chiefly what may concern her faith to know, 

The great deliverance by her seed to come. 

For by the woman's seed, on all mankind. 

That ye may live, which will be many days, 

Both in one faith unanimous, though sad 

With cause for evils past; yet much more cheer'd 

With meditation on the happy end. 

He ended, and they both descend the hill : 
Descended, Adam to the bower, where Eve 
Lay sleeping, ran before, but found her waked; 
And thus with words not sad she him received. 

Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know ; 



^ 



f 



* 



PARADISE LOST. 

For God is also in sleep, and dreams advise, 

Which He hath sent propitious, some great good 

Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress 

Wearied I fell asleep : but now lead on ; 

In me is no delay ; with thee to go 

Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay 

Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me 

Art all things under heav'n, all places thou, 

Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence. 

This further consolation yet secure 

I carry hence; though all by me is lost. 

Such favor I unworthy am vouchsafed, 

By me the Promised Seed shall all restore. 

So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard 
Well pleased, but answer'd not; for now too nigh 
Th' Archangel stood, and from the other hill 
To their fix'd station all in bright array 
The Cherubim descended ; on the ground 
Gliding meteorous, as ev'ning mist 
Ris'n from a river o'er the marish^ glides, 
And gathers ground fast at the laborer's heel 
Homeward returning. High in front advanced 
The brandish'd sword of God before them blazed 
Fierce as a comet; which with torrid heat. 
And vapor as the Libyan air adust, 
Began to parch that temperate clime : whereat 
In either hand the hast'ning angel caught 
Our ling'ring parents, and to the eastern gate 
Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
To the subjected plain ; then disappear'd. 
They looking back all the eastern side beheld 
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat. 
Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate 



321 



I An old word for marsh. 
21 



^ 



■& 



^ 



^ 



322 PARADISE LOST, 

With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms : 
Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wiped them soon ; 
The world was all before them, where to choose 
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 
They, hand in hand with wand'ring steps and slow. 
Through Eden took their solitary way. 



^ 



4^ 



S- Q, 



Paradise Regained. 



BOOK I. 

I, WHO erewhile the happy garden sung, 
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing 
Recover'd Paradise to all mankind, 
By one man's firm obedience fully tried 
Through all temptation, and the tempter foil'd 
In all his wiles, defeated, and repulsed. 
And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 
Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite 
Into the desert, His victorious field, 
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st Him thence 
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire. 
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute, 
And bear through highth or depth of nature's bounds 
With prosperous wing full summ'd^ to tell of deeds 
Above heroic, though in secret done. 
And unrecorded left through many an age, 
Wo. thy t' have not remain'd so long unsung. 
Now had the great Proclaimer,^ with a voice 
^ More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
Repentance, and heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 
To all baptized : to his great baptism flock'd 
With awe the regions round, and with them came 
From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem'd 

1 Full feathered, a term used in falconry. ^ John the Baptist. 

323 

^ -^ 



^ ^ 

324 PARADISE REGAINED. 

To the flood Jordan, came, as then obscure, 
Unmark'd, unknown ; but Him the Baptist soon 
Descried, divinely warn'd, and witness bore 
As to his worthier, and would have resign'd 
To him his heavenly office, nor was long 
His witness unconfirm'd : on Him baptized 
Heav'n open'd, and in likeness of a dove 
The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
From heav'n pronounced Him His beloved Son. 
That heard the adversary, who, roving still 
About the world, at that assembly famed 
Would not be last, and, with the voice divine 
Nigh thunder-struck, th' exalted Man, to whom 
Such high attest was giv'n, a while survey'd 
With wonder, then, with envy fraught and rage, 
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air 
To council summons all his mighty peers. 
Within thick clouds and dark ten-fold involved, 
A gloomy consistory ; and them amidst 
With looks aghast and sad he thus bespake. 

O ancient Powers of air^ and this wide world. 
For much more willingly I mention air. 
This our old conquest, than remember Hell, 
Our hated habitation ; well we know 
How many ages, as the years of men. 
This universe we have possest, and ruled 
In manner at our will th' affairs of earth. 
Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
Lost Paradise deceived by me, though since 
With dread attending when that fatal wound 
Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 
Upon my head ; long the decrees of heav'n 
Delay, for longest time to Him is short ; 
And now too soon for us the circling hours 



I See Ephes. ii. 2 ; vi. 12. 



a ^ — ^ ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 325 

This dreaded time have compast, wherein we 

Must bide the stroke of that long threaten'd wound, 

At least if so we can, and by the head 

Broken be not intended all our power 

To be infringed, our freedom, and our being, 

In this fair empire won of earth and air : 

For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed, 

Destined to this, is late of woman born ; 

His birth to our just fear gave no small cause, 

But his growth now to youth's full flow'r, displaying 

All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve 

Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 

Before him a great prophet to proclaim 

His coming is sent harbinger, who all 

Invites, and in the consecrated stream 

Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so 

Purified to receive Him pure, or rather 

To do Him honor as their king: all come. 

And He Himself among them was baptized, 

Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 

The testimony of heav'n, that who He is 

Thenceforth the nations may not doubt. I saw 

The prophet do him reverence, on Him, rising 

Out of the water, heav'n above the clouds 

Unfold her crystal doors, thence on His head 

A perfect dove descend, whate'er it meant. 

And out of heav'n Lhe sovereign voice I hear, 

— This is my Son beloved, in Him am pleased. 

His mother then is*mortal, but His sire 

He who obtains the monarchy of heav'n ; 

And what will He not do to advance His Son ? 

His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, 

When His fierce thunder drove us to the deep ; 

Who this is we must learn,^ for man He seems 

1 Milton's idea that Satan did not know that the wondrous Man baptized was the Messiah, 



a- ^ 

326 PARADISE REGAINED. 

In all His lineaments, though in His face 

The glimpses of His Father's glory shine. 

Ye see our danger on the utmost edge 

Of hazard, which admits no long debate, 

But must with something sudden be opposed, 

Not force, but well-couch'd fraud, well- woven snares, 

Ere in the head of nations He appear 

Their king, their leader, and supreme on earth. 

I, when no other durst, sole undertook 

The dismal expedition to find out 

And ruin Adam, and the exploit perform'd 

Successfully ; a calmer voyage now 

Will waft me ; and the way found prosp'rous once 

Induces best to hope of like success. 

He ended, and his words impression left 
Of much amazement to th' infernal crew. 
Distracted and surprised with deep dismay 
At these sad tidings ; but no time was then 
For long indulgence to their fears or grief. 
Unanimous they all commit the ca're 
And management of this main enterprise 
To him their great dictator, whose attempt 
At first against mankind so well had thrived 
In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 
From hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell in light, 
Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea gods 
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide. 
So to the coast of Jordan he directs 
His easy steps, girded with snaky^wiles,^ 
Where he might likeliest find this new-declared, 
This man of men, attested Son of God, 
Temptation and all guile on Him to try ; 



originated probably by the opinions of Ignatius, Bezu, etc., who believed that the devil did 
not recognize in mortal form the Son of God.— From Newton. 

1 Alluding to the habits of pretended sorcerers, who wore a girdle of snake's skin.— . 
Newton. Milton also alluded to the tennptation of Eve. 

4- — ^ 



^ ■ ~(b 

PARADISE REGAINED. 327 

So to subvert whom he suspected raised 

To end his reign on earth so long enjoy'd : 

But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd 

The purposed counsel pre-ordain'd and fixt 

Of the most High, who, in full frequence bright 

Of angels, thus to GabrieP smiling spake. 

Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold. 
Thou and all angels conversant on earth 
With man or men's affairs, how I begin 
To verify that solemn message late. 
On which I sent thee to the virgin pure 
In Galilee, that she should bear a son 
Great in renown, and call'd the Son of God ; 
Thou told'st her, doubtin^ how these things could be 
To her a virgin, that on her should come 
The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
O'ershadow her : this man born, and now up-grown, 
To show him worthy of his birth divine 
And high prediction, henceforth I expose 
To Satan ; let him tempt and now assay 
His utmost subtlety, because he boasts 
And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 
Of his apostasy; he might have learnt 
Less overweening, since he fail'd in Job, 
Whose constant perseverance overcame 
Whate'er his cruel malice could invent. 
He now shall know I can produce a man 
Of female seed, far abler to resist 
All his solicitations, and at length 
All his vast force, and drive him back to hell, 
Winning by conquest what the first man lost 
By fallacy surprised. But first I mean 
To exercise him in the wilderness ; 
There he shall first lay down the rudiments 

' The rabbis say that Gabriel was the angel of mercy ; Michael, of justice. — From New- 
ton. 

"^ -4^ 



a- ^ ^ 

328 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 

To conquer sin and death, the two grand foes 

By humiHation and strong sufferance. 

His weakness shall o'ercome satanic strength, 

And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh ; 

That all the angels and ethereal powers. 

They now, and men hereafter, may discern, 

From what consummate virtue I have chose 

This perfect man, by merit called my son. 

To earn salvation for the sons of men. 

So spake th' eternal Father, and all heav'n 

Admiring stood a space, then into hymns 

Burst forth, and in celestial measures moved. 

Circling the throne and singing, while the hand 

Sung with the voice, and this the argument. 
Victory and triumph to the Son of God, 

Now ent'ring his great duel, not of arms, 

But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. 

The Father knows the Son ; therefore secure 

Ventures His filial virtue, though untried, 

Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce, 

Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 

Be frustrate all ye stratagems of hell. 

And devilish machinations come to nought. 
So they in heav'n their odes and vigils tuned : 

Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 

Lodg'd in Bethabara where John baptized, 

Musing and much revolving in his breast, 

How best the mighty work he might begin 

Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 

Publish his god-like office now mature, 

One day forth walked alone, the Spirit leading. 

And his deep thoughts, the better to converse 

With solitude, till far from track of men, 

Thought following thought, and step by step led on. 



^ ^ 



^ -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 329 

He enter'd now the bordering desert wild/ 

And, with dark shades and rocks environ'd round, 

His holy meditations thus pursued. 

O what a multitude of thoughts at once 
Awaken'd in me swarm, while I consider 
What from within I feel my self, and hear 
What from without comes often to my ears, 
111 sorting with my present state compared. 
When I was yet a child, no childish play 
To me was pleasing, all my mind was set 
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do 
What might be public good ; myself I thought 
Born to that end, born to promote all truth. 
All righteous things : therefore, above my years, 
The law of God I read, and found it sweet, 
Made it my whole delight, and in it grew 
To such perfection, that, ere yet my age 
Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 
I went into the temple, there to hear 
The teachers of our law, and to propose 
What might improve my knowledge or their own. 
And was admired by all ; yet this not all 
To which my spirit aspired, victorious deeds 
P'lamed in my heart, heroic acts ; one while 
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke. 
Then to subdue and quell o'er all the earth 
Brute violence and proud tyrannic pow'r, 
Till truth were freed, and equity restored : 
Yet held it more humane, more heav'nly, first 
By winning words to conquer willing hearts, 
And make persuasion do the work of fear ; 
At least to try, and teach the erring soul, 
Not wilfully misdoing, but unware 
Misled; the stubborn only to subdue. 



1 The Wilderness of Judea, or Ziph. It extended frona the Jordan along the western side 
of the Dead Sea. 



<b 



330 



PARADISE REGAINED. 

These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving 
By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced, 
And said to me apart. High are thy thoughts 
.0 son, but nourish them, and let them soar 
To what highth sacred virtue and true worth 
Can raise them, thou above example high; 
By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sire. 
For know, thou art no son of mortal man, 
Though men esteem thee low of parentage, 
Thy father is the eternal King who rules 
All heav'n and earth, angels and sons of men : 
A messenger from God foretold thy birth 
Conceived in me a virgin ;^ he foretold 
Thou should'st be great, and sit on David's throne, 
And of thy kingdom there should be no end. 
At thy nativity a glorious quire 
Of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung 
To shepherds watching at their folds by night,^ 
And told them the Messiah now was born, 
Where they might see him ; and to thee they came, 
Directed to the manger where thou lay'st, 
For in the inn was left no better room. 
A star, not seen before, in heav'n appearing 
Guided the wise men thither from the east,^ 
To honor thee with incense, myrrh, and gold, 
By whose bright course led on they found the place. 
Affirming it thy star new grav'n in heav'n, 
By which they knew the king of Israel born. 
Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warn'd 
By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake. 
Before the altar and the vested Priest, 
Like things of thee to all that present sfeood. 
This having heard, straight I again revolved 
The law and prophets, searching what was writ 



1 Luke i. 30-35. 



2 Luke ii. 8 and following vs. 



3 Matt. ii. 



^ 



4 



a ——. — -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 331 

Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 

Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake 

I am ; this chiefly, that my way must he 

Through many a hard assay, even to the death, 

Ere I the promised kingdom can attain, 

Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins 

Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head. 

Yet, neither thus dishearten'd or dismay'd. 

The time prefixt I waited, when, behold ! 

The Baptist, of whose birth I oft had heard, 

Not knew by sight/ now come, who was to come 

Before Messiah and his way prepare. 

I, as all others, to his baptism came, 

Which I believed was from above; but he 

Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd 

Me Him (for it was shown him so from heav'n). 

Me Kim whose harbinger he was ; and first 

Refused on me his baptism to confer, 

As much his greater, and was hardly won : 

But as I rose out of the laving stream. 

Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence 

The Spirit descended on me like a dove ; 

And last, the sum of all, my Father's voice, 

Audibly heard from heav'n pronounced me His, 

Me His beloved Son, in whom alone 

He was well pleased ; by which I knew the time 

Now full, that I no more should live obscure, 

But openly begin, as best becomes 

The authority which I derived from heav'n. 

And now by some strong motion I am led 

Into this wilderness, to what intent 

I learn not yet, perhaps, I need not know ; 

For what concerns my knowledge God reveals. . 

1 St. John was brought up in a different part of the country from Jesus, and first saw his 
divine cousin at his baptism. John i. 31, 32. •• I knew him not." 

^ . i 



^ : -^ 

332 PARADISE REGAINED. 

So spake our Morning Star, then in his rise, 
And looking round on every side beheld 
A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades ; 
The way he came not having mark'd, return 
Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
Accompanied of things past and to come 
Lodged in his breast, as well might recommend 
Such solitude before choicest society. 
Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill 
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night 
Under the cover of some ancient oak 
Or cedar, to defend him from the dew. 
Or harbor'd in one cave, is not reveal'd ; 
Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt 
Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last 
Among wild beasts : they at his sight grew mild, 
Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd ; his v/alk 
The fiery serpent fled and noxious worm, 
The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. 
But now an aged man in rural weeds, 
Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray ewe, 
Or wither'd sticks to gather, which might serve 
Against a winter's day, when winds blow keen. 
To warm him wet return'd from field at eve, 
He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
Perused him, then with words thus utter'd spake. 

Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place 
So far from path or road of men, who pass 
In troop or caravan, for single none 
Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here 
His carcass, pined with hunger and with drought. 
I ask the rather, and the more admire. 
For that to me thou seem'st the man, whom late 
Our new baptizing prophet at the ford 
Of Jordan honor'd so, and call'd thee Son 

^ ■ ^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 333 

Of God ; I saw and heard, for we sometimes, 
Who dwell this wild, constrain'd by want, come forth 
To town or village nigh, (nighest is far,) 
Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear, 
What happens new; fame also finds us out. 

To whom the Son of God. Who brought me hither 
Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek. 

By miracle he may, replied the swain, 
What other way I see not, for we here 
Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured 
More than the camel, and to drink go far, 
Men to much misery and hardship born. 
But if thou be the Son of God, command 
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread, 
So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve 
With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste. 

He ended, and the Son of God replied. 
Think'st thou such force in bread? is it not written, 
(For I discern thee other than thou seem'st,) 
Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed 
Our fathers here with Manna ? in the mount 
Moses was forty days, nor eat, nor drank ; 
And forty days Elijah without food 
Wander'd this barren waste, the same I now. 
Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, 
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art ? 

Whom thus answer'd the arch fiend now undisguised. 
'Tis true, I am that spirit unfortunate, 
Who leagued with millions more in rash revolt, 
Kept not my happy station, but was driv'n 
With them from bliss to the bottomless deep ; 
Yet to that hideous place not so confined 
By rigor unconniving, but that oft. 
Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy 
Large liberty, to round this globe of earth, 



-e? 



334 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Or range in the air, nor from the heav'n of heav'ns 

Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 

I came among the sons of God, when he 
\ Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job 

To prove him, and illustrate his high worth ; 

And when to all his angels he proposed 
j To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud, 

\ That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring, 

!I undertook that office, and the tongues 
Of all his flattering prophets glibb'd with lies^ 
I To his destruction, as I had in charge ; 



For what He bids I do. Though I have lost 

Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 

To be beloved of God, I have not lost 

To love, at least contemplate and admire, 

What I see excellent in good, or fair. 

Or virtuous; I should so have lost all sense. 

What can be then less in me than desire 

To see thee and approach thee, whom I know 

Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 

Thy wisdom, and behold thy Godlike deeds ? 

Men generally think me much a foe 

To all mankind : why should I ? they to me 

Never did wrong or violence, by them 

I lost not what I lost, rather by them 

I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell, 

Copartner in these regions of the world. 

If not disposer; lend them oft my aid, 

Oft my advice by presages, and signs. 

And answers, oracles, portents, and dreams. 

Whereby they may direct their future life.^ 

1 I Kings xxii. 19 arid following vs. 

2 The following passage of Cicero reflects so much light on these lines as would incline 
one to think that Milton had it in his mind. " Multa cernunt haruspices; niulta augures 
provident, multa oraculis declarantur, multa vaticinationibus, multa somniis, multa portentis : 
quibus cognitis, mult;s ssepe res hominum sententia atque utilitate partge " (or, as Lambinus 



^ 



a- ^ ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 335 

Envy they say excites me thus to gain 

Companions of my misery and woe. 

At first it may be ; but long since with woe. 

Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 

That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 

Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. 

Small consolation then, were man adjoin'd : 

This wounds me most, what can it less? that man, 

Man fall'n shall be restored, I never more. 

To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied. 
Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies 
From the beginning, and in lies wilt end, 
Who boast release from hell, and leave to come 
Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns. Thou com'st indeed, 
As a poor miserable captive thrall 
Comes to the place where he before had sat 
Among the prime in splendor, now deposed, 
Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunn'd, 
A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 
To all the host of heav'n. The happy place 
Imports to thee no happiness, no joy, 
Rather inflames thy torment, representing 
Lost bliss to thee no more communicable. 
So never more in hell than when in heav'n. 
But thou art serviceable to heaven's King. 
Wilt thou impute t' obedience what thy fear 
Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites ? 
What but thy malice moved thee to misdeem 
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him 
With all inflictions ? but his patience won. 
The other service was thy chosen task, 
To be a liar in four hundred mouths ; 
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 

reads, " ex animi sententia atque utilitate partae"); " multa etiam pericula depulsa sunt." 
— De Nat. Dear. II. 65. — NEWTON. 



^- 




a- 






336 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Yet thou pretend'st to truth ; all oracles 

By thee are giv'n, and what confest more true 

Among the nations ? that hath been thy craft, 

By mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. 

But what have been thy answers ? what but dark, 

Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding, 

Which they who asked have seldom understood, 

And not well understood as good not known ? 

Who ever by consulting at thy shrine 

Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct 

To fly or follow what concern'd him most. 

And run not sooner to his fatal snare ? 

For God hath justly given the nations up 

To thy delusions; justly, since they fell 

Idolatrous. But when His purpose is 

Among them to declare His providence 

To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth, 

But from Him or His angels president 

In every province ? who, themselves disdaining 

T' approach thy temples, give thee in command 

What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 

To thy adorers ; thou with trembling fear, 

Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st; 

Then to thyself ascrib'st the truth foretold. 

But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd ; 

No more shalt thou by oracling abuse 

The Gentiles ; henceforth oracles are ceased,^ 

And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 

Shalt be inquired at Delphos or elsewhere, 

At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.^ 



1 Ceased. Juv. Sat. VI. 554. •• Delphis oracula cessant." 

2 Thus the priestess tells Appius when he wishes to consult the oracle at Delphi, and finds 



it dumb: 



" Muto Parnassus hiatu 
Conticuit pressitque Deum ; seu spiritus istas 
Destituit fauces mundique in devi.-'. versuin. 
Duxit iter." — Luc AN, quoted by DUNSTER. 



4 



I 



^- -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 337 

God hath now sent His living oracle 

Into the world to teach His final will, 

And sends His Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell 

In pious hearts, and inward oracle 

To all truth requisite for men to know. 

So spake our Saviour; but the subtle fiend, 
Though inly stung with anger and disdain. 
Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd. 

Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke. 
And urged me hard with doings, which not will 
But misery, hath wrested from me ; where 
Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
And not enforced ofttimes to part from truth ; 
If it may stand him more in stead to lie, 
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure ? 
But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord; 
From thee I can, and must, submiss endure 
Check or reproof, and glad to escape so quit. 
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, 
Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing to th* ear, 
And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song ; 
What wonder then if I delight to hear 
Her dictates from thy mouth ? most men admire 
Virtue, who follow not her lore : permit me 
To hear thee when I come, since no man comes. 
And talk at least, though I despair to attain. 
Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, 
Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest 
To tread his sacred courts, and minister 
About his altar, handling holy things. 
Praying or vowing, and vouchsafed his voice 
To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 
Inspired ; disdain not such access to me. 

To whom our Saviour with unalter'd brow. 
Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, 
I bid not or forbid ; do as thou find'st 
22 



^ ~ -^ 

338 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Permission from above ; thou canst not more. 

He added not ; and Satan, bowing low 
His gray dissimulation, disappear'd 
Into thin air diffused ■} for now beean 
Night with her sullen wings to double-shade 
The desert; fowls in their clay nests were couch'd ; 
And now wild beasts come forth the woods to roam.. 



1 " These our actors, 
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and 
Are melted into air, into ikin air." — 

isHAKSPEARE, Tempest., Act IV. So. 2. 



#- -4^ 



^ 



-^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



339 



BOOK II. 

Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remain'd 

At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 

Him whom they heard so late expressly call'd 

Jesus, Messiah, Son of God declared, 

And on that high authority had believed, 

And with him talk'd, and with him lodged,^ I mean 

Andrew and Simon, famous after known, 

With others though in holy writ not named, 

Now missing him their joy so lately found, 

So lately found, and so abruptly gone. 

Began to doubt, and doubted many days, 

And, as the days increased, increased their doubt : 

Sometimes they thought he might be only shown, 

And for a time caught up to God, as once 

Moses was in the Mount, and missing long ; 

And the great Thisbite,^ who on fiery wheels 

Rode up to heav'n, yet once again to come. 

Therefore as those young prophets then with care 

Sought lost Elijah,^ so in each place these 

Nigh to Bethabara ; in Jericho 

The city of palms,^ /Enon, and Salem old. 

Machaerus,'^ and each town or city wall'd 

On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 

Or in Peraea; but return'd in vain. 

Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 

Where winds with reeds and osiers whisp'ring play. 

Plain fishermen, no greater men them call, 



1 See John i. 35-40. ^ Elijah. 

* Jericho is called the city of palm trees in Deut. xxxiv. 3. 

6 A stronghold fortified by Herod Antipas, 



3 2 Kings ii. 17. 



^ 



4 



340 



^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 

Close in a cottage low together got, 

Their unexpected loss and plaints outbreathed. 

Alas, from what high hope to what relapse 

Unlook'd for are we fall'n ! our eyes beheld 

Messiah certainly now come, so long 

Expected of our fathers ; we have heard 

His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth : 

Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand, 

The kingdom shall to Israel be restored : 

Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turn'd 

Into perplexity and new amaze: 

For whither is he gone, what accident 

Hath wrapt him from us ? will he now retire 

After appearance, and again prolong 

Our expectation ? God of Israel, 

Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come, 

Behold the kings of the earth how they oppress 

Thy chosen, to what highth their power unjust 

They have exalted, and behind them cast 

All fear of thee. Arise and vindicate 

Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. 

But let us wait ; thus far He hath perform'd, 

Sent His Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, 

By His great prophet pointed at and shown 

In public, and with him we have conversed ; 

Let us be glad of this, and all our fears 

Lay on His providence ; He will not fail, 

Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall ; 

Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence ; 

Soon we shall see our hope, our joy return. 

Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume 
To find whom at the first they found unsought : 
But to his mother Mary, when she saw 
Others return'd from baptism, not her Son, 
Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none, 
Within her breast though calm, her breast though pure, 

^ # 



PARADISE REGAINED. 341 

Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised 

Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad.* 

O what avails me now that honor high 
To have conceived of God, or that salute, 
Hail, highly favor'd, among women blest ! 
While I to sorrows am no less advanced, 
And fears as eminent, above the lot 
Of other women, by the birth I bore, 
In such a season born, when scarce a shed 
Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me 
From the bleak air ! a stable was our warmth, 
A manger his : yet soon enforced to fly 
Thence into Egypt, till the murd'rous king 
Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd 
With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem. 
From Egypt home return'd, in Nazareth 
Hath been our dwelling many years ; his life 
Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, 
Little suspicious to any king; but now 
Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear, 
By John the Baptist, and in public shown, 
Son own'd from heav'n by his Father's voice ; 
I look'd for some great change : to honor ? no, 
But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold. 
That to the fall and rising he should be 
Of many in Israel, and to a sign 
Spoken against, that through my very soul 
A sword shall pierce. This is my favor'd lot. 
My exaltation to afflictions high ; 
Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest ; 
I will not argue that, nor will repine. 
But where delays he now ? some great intent 
Conceals him. When twelve years he scarce had seen, 
I lost him, but so found, as well I saw 
He could not lose himself; but went about 
His father's business. What he meant I mused, 

^ ^ ^ -^ 



a- -^ 

342 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Since understand. Much more his absence now 
Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. 
But I to wait with patience am inured ; 
My heart hath been a store-house long of things 
And sayings laid up, portending strange events. 

Thus Mary pond'ring oft, and oft to mind 
Recalling what remarkably had pass'd 
Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts 
Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling : 
The while her Son, tracing the desert wild, 
Sole but with holiest meditations fed, 
Into himself descended, and at once 
All his great work to come before him set; 
How to begin, how to accomplish best 
His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
For Satan, with sly preface to return. 
Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone 
Up to the middle region of thick air, 
Where all his potentates in council sat; 
There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
Solicitous and blank he thus began. 

Princes, heav'n's ancient sons, ethereal thrones, 
Demonian spirits now from the element 
Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd 
Pow'rs of fire, air, water, and earth beneath, 
So may we hold our place, and these mild seats 
Without new trouble ; such an enemy 
Is risen to invade us, who no less 
Threatens, than our expulsion down to hell ; 
I, as I undertook, and with the vote 
Consenting in full frequence was impower'd, 
Have found him, view'd him, tasted him,^ but find 
Far other labor to be undergone 
Than when I dealt with Adam first of men, 

1 A Grecism. See also Psalm xxxiv. 8 : " O taste and see how gracious the Lord is 1 " 

(^ ^ ^ 



e- -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 343 

Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell, 

However to this man inferior far, 

If he be man by mother's side at least, 

With more than human gifts from heav'n adorn'd, 

Perfections absolute, graces divine, 

And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. 

Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence 

Of my success with Eve in paradise 

Deceive ye to persuasion oversure 

Of like succeeding here : I summon all 

Rather to be in readiness, with hand 

Or counsel to assist, lest I, who erst 

Thought none my equal, now be overmatch'd. 

So spake the old Serpent doubting, and from all 
With clamor was assured their utmost aid 
At his command ; when from amidst them rose 
Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell. 
The sensualest, and after Asmodai ^ 
The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advised. 

Set women in his eye, and in his walk. 
Among daughters of men the fairest found ; 
Many are in each region passing fair 
As the noon sky; more like to goddesses 
Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet. 
Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues 
Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild 
And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach, 
Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw 
Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. 
Such object hath the power to soften and tame 
Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 
Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 

1 Or Asmodeus, the angel who persecuted Sara, the daughter of Raguel, and slew her 
husbands. See Tobit. 

^ ^ ^ 



^^^-^ ^— — -— ^ 

344 PARADISE REGAINED. 

As the magnetic^ hardest iron draws. 
Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart 
Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 
And made him bow to the gods of his wives. 

To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd. 
Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st 
All others by thyself; because of old 
Thou thyself doat'dst on woman-kind, admiring 
Their shape, their color, and attractive grace. 
None are, thou thuik'st, but taken with such toys. 
Before the flood thou with thy lusty crew, 
False titled sons of god, roaming the earth. 
Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men. 
And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
Have we not seen, or by relation heard, 
In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st, 
In wood or grove by mossy fountain side. 
In valley or green meadow, to way- lay 
Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa,^ 
Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names adored, 
Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 
Satyr, or fawn, or sylvan ? but these haunts 
Delight not all ; among the sons of men, 
How many have with a smile made small account 
Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd 
All her assaults, on worthier things intent? 
Remember that Pcllean conqueror,* 
A youth, how all the beauties of the east 
He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd ; 
How he surnamed of Africa^ dismiss'd 

1 The loadstone, or magnet. 

2 Women beloved by the heathen deities. Ovid relates these fables. Calisto, Semele, 
and Antiopa were the loves of Jupiter; Clymene and Daphne, of Apollo; Syrinx, of Pan. 

•'' Alexander the Great. He was born at Pella, in Macedonia. 

* Scipio Africanus. His generous treatment of his Spanish captive is well-known. 



f 



^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 345 

In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 

For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full 

Of honor, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond 

Higher design than to enjoy his state ; 

Thence to the bait of women lay exposed : 

But He whom we attempt is wiser far 

Than Solomon, of more exalted mind. 

Made and set wholly on the accomplishment 

Of greatest things; what woman will you find. 

Though of this age the wonder and the fame, 

On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 

Of fond desire ? or should she confident, 

As sitting queen adored on beauty's throne, 

Descend with all her winning charms begirt 

To enamour, as the zone of Venus once 

Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell ; 

How would one look from his majestic brow, 

Seated as on the top of virtue's hill, 

Discount'nance her despised, and put to rout 

All her array; her female pride deject. 

Or turn to reverent awe ? for beauty stands 

In the admiration only of weak minds 

Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes 

Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy. 

At every sudden slighting quite abash'd: 

Therefore with manlier objects we must try 

His constancy, with such as have more show 

Of worth, of honor, glory, and popular praise ; 

Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd ; 

Or that which only seems to satisfy 

Lawful desires of nature, not beyond ; 

And now I know he hungers where no food 

Is to be found, in the wide wilderness ; 

The rest commit to me, I shall let pass 

No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. 

He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim : 

^ ^ 



a -^ 

346 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 

Of spirits, likest to himself in guile, 

To be at hand, and at his beck appear, 

If cause were to unfold some active scene 

Of various persons each to kno\;^ his part ; 

Then to the desert takes with these his flight ; 

Where still from shade to shade the Son of God 

After forty days' fasting had remain'd, 

Now hung'ring first, and to himself thus said. 

Where will this end ? four times ten days I've pass'd 
Wand'ring this woody maze, and human food 
Nor tasted, nor had appetite : that fast 
To virtue I impute not, or count part 
Of what I suffer here. If nature need not, 
Or God support nature without repast 
Though needing, what praise is it to endure ? 
But now I feel I hunger, which declares 
Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 
Can satisfy that need some other way, 
Though hunger still remain : so it remain 
Without this body's wasting, I content me, 
And from the sting of famine fear no harm, 
Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed 
Me hung'ring more to do my Father's will. 

It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 
Communed in silent walk, then laid him down 
Under the hospitable covert nigh 
Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept, 
And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream. 
Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet : 
Him thought he by the brook of Cherith stood. 
And saw the ravens with their horny beaks^ 
Food to Elijah bringing even and morn, 
Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought: 



1 I Kings xvii. 5, 6. 



^ 



^ ^ ^ ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 347 

He saw the prophet also how he fled 

Into the desert, and how there he slept 

Under a juniper: then how, awaked, 

He found his supper on the coals prepared, 

And by the angel was bid rise and eat, 

And eat the second time after repose, 

The strength whereof sufficed him forty days ; 

Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, 

Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.^ 

Thus wore out night, and now the herald lark 

Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry 

The morn's approach, and greet her with his song. 

As lightly from his grassy couch up rose 

Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream, 

Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked. 

Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd. 

From whose high top to ken the prospect round, 

If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd; 

But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw. 

Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove, 

With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud; 

Thither he bent his way, determined there 

To rest at noon, and enter'd soon the shade 

High roof'd, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 

That open'd in the midst a woody scene ; 

Nature's own work it seem'd, nature taught art. 

And to a superstitious eye the haunt 

Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs ; he view'd it round, 

When suddenly a man before him stood, 

Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad. 

As one in city, or court, or palace bred, 

And with fair speech these words to him address'd. 

With granted leave officious I return, 
But much more wonder that the Son of God 

1 Daniel i. 12. 



^ ■ -^ 

348 PARADISE REGAINED. 

In this wild solitude so long should bide 

Of all things destitute, and well I know, 

Not without hunger. Others of some note, 

As story tells, have trod this wilderness ; 

The fugitive bond-woman with her son 

Out-cast Nebaioth, yet found here relief 

By a providing angel ;^ all the race 

Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God 

Rain'd from heav'n manna ; and that prophet bold 

Native of Thebez^ wand'ring here was fed 

Twice by a voice inviting him to eat.^ 

Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 

Forty and more deserted here indeed. 

To whom thus Jesus. What conclud'st thou hence ? 
They all had need, I, as thou seest, have none. 

How hast thou hunger then? Satan replied. 
Tell me, if food were now before thee set, 
Would'st thou not eat ? Thereafter as I like 
The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why should that 
Cause thy refusal ? said the subtle fiend. 
Hast thou not right to all created things ? 
Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 
Duty and service, nor to stay till bid. 
But tender all their power ? nor mention I 
Meats by the law unclean, or offer'd first 
To idols, those young Daniel could refuse; 
Nor proffer'd by an enemy, though who 
Would scruple that with want opprest ? behold 
Nature ashamed, or, better to express, 



1 Hagar and Ishmael. See Gen. xxi. 14-21. Nebaioth was Ishmael's eldest son, who 
gave their name to the nation descended from him, the Nebatheans. 

2 Thisbe was the birthplace of Elijah. 

3 Hagar, the Israelites, and Elijah did not suffer hunger on the identical spot where our 
Lord fasted; but Milton takes in the who/e desert at one view, not caring to distinguish 
different spots in one wide tract. — From NEWTON. 



^ ^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 349 

Troubled that thou should'st hunger, hath purvey'd 
From all the elements her choicest store 
To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord 
With honor, only deign to sit and eat. 

He spake no dream, for as his words had end, 
Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld 
In ample space under the broadest shade 
A table richly spread, in regal mode, 
With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort 
And savor, beasts of chase, or fowl of game. 
In pastry-built,^ or from the spit, or boil'd, 
Gris-amber^ steam'd ; all fish from sea or shore, 
Freshet' or purling brook, of shell or fin. 
And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd 
Pontus, and Lucrine bay,^ and Afric coast. 
Alas how simple, to these cates compared. 
Was that crude apple that diverted'' Eve ! 
And at a stately side-board by the wine 
That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood 
Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue 
Than Ganymed or Hylas,'' distant more 
Under the trees now tripp'd, now solemn stood 
Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades 
With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, 
And ladies of the Hesperides,^ that seem'd 
Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled since 
Of fairy damsels met in forest wide 

1 Milton a'.ludes to the culinary feats called " subtilities," or " sotilties " — wonderful 
pastry built in the shape of embattled towers, &c., to a great height. 

2 Ambergris, which was used in Milton's day in cookery. 

3 A stream of fresh water. 

* Pontus is the Black Sea ; the Lucrine bay in Italy. 
5 Diverted here means " turned aside," from the Latin diverto, to turn aside. 

* Ganymede was the cupbearer of Jupiter; Hylas drew water for Hercules. 
■7 The " ladies of the Hesperides " were famed for their lovely singing. The nymphs of 

the chase and of the water (the Naiades) appropriately attend such a feast. 

4- ^ 



^^ -^ 

350 PARADISE REGAINED. 

By knights of Logres/ or of Lyones,^ 

Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore,^ 

And all the while harmonious airs were heard 

Of chiming strings or charming pipes, and winds 

Of gentlest gale Arabian odors fann'd 

From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 

Such was the splendor ; and the tempter now 

His invitation earnestly renew'd. 

What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat ? 
These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
Defends the touching of these viands pure ; 
Their taste no knowledge works at least of evil, 
But life preserves, destroy's life's enemy, 
Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
All these a're spirits of air, and woods, and springs. 
Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 
Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their lord : 
What doubt'st thou. Son of God? sit down and eat. 

To whom thus Jesus temperately replied. 
Said'st thou not that to all things I had right ? 
And who withholds my power that right to use ? 
Shall I receive by gift what of my own, 
When and where likes me best, I can command ? 
I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, 
Command a table in this wilderness, 
And call swift flights of angels ministrant, 
Array'd in glory, on my cup to attend ; 
Why should'st thou then obtrude this diligence, 

I Logres. or Logris, is the same as Loegria, an ancient name for England. See Holinshed's 
" Hiitory of England," B. II. 4, 5. Spenser uses this name in his " Faerie Queene ■': — 
"And Camber did possess the western quart 
Which Severn now from Logris doth depart,"— /=><;»« DUNSTERS Note. 
' Lyones, or Lionesse, was an ancient name for part of Cornwall— the extreme west, 
towards the Land's End. 

^ Lancelot's name has again become a " household word," through Tennyson's exquisite 
" Idylls." It is scarcely necessary to say that he, Pelleas, and Pellenore were three of 
Arthur's knights. 



^ 



4 



^ 



^ Qp 

PARADISE REGAINED. 351 

In vain, where no acceptance it can find ? 

And with my hunger what hast thou to do? 

Thy pompous dehcacies I contemn, 
. And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles. 
To whom thus answer'd Satan malecontent. 

That I have also power to give thou seest. 

If of that power I bring thee voluntary 

What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleased. 

And rather opportunely in this place 

Chose to impart to thy apparent need, 

Why should'st thou not accept it ? but I see 

What I can do or offer is suspect; 

Of these things others quickly will dispose, 

Whose pains have earn'd the far-fet» spoil. ' With that 

Both table and provision vanish'd quite 

With sounds of Harpies' wings and talons heard; 

Only the importune tempter still remained, 
And with these words his temptations pursued. 

By hunger, that each other creature tames. 
Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not moved ; 
Thy temperance invincible besides, 
For no allurement yields to appetite, 
And all thy heart is set on high designs. 
High actions ; but wherewith to be achieved ? 
Great acts require great means of enterprise ; 
Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, 
A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
Bred up in poverty and straits at home. 
Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit: 
Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire 
To greatness ? whence authority deriv'st ? 
What followers, what retinue can'st thou gain ? 
Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude. 
Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost ? 



a- 



<b 



352 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Money brings honor, friends, conquest, and realms. 
What raised Antipater the Edomite, 
And his son Herod placed on Judah's throne,^ 
Thy throne, but gold that got him puissant friends ? 
Therefore, if at great things thou would'st arrive, 
Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, 
Not difficult, if thou hearken to me; 
Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand ; 
They whom I favor thrive in wealth amain, 
While virtue, valor, wisdom, sit in want. 
To whom thus Jesus patiently replied. 
Yet wealth without these three is impotent 
To gain dominion, or to keep it gain'd. 
Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 
In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved. 
But men endued with these have oft attain'd 
In lowest poverty to highest deeds; 
Gideon^ and Jeptha,^ and the shepherd lad, 
Whose offspring on the throne of Judah sat 
So many ages, and shall yet regain 
•That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 
Among the heathen, for throughout the world 
To me is not unknown what hath been done 
Worthy of memorial, canst thou not remember 
Quintius,^ Fabricius,'^ Curius," Regulus ?'' 

1 See Josephus, B. IV. 26. 2 Judges vi. 15. ^ Judges xi. i. 

* Quintius Cincinnatus, twice taken from the plough to be Consul and Dictator of Rome. 
After subduing the enemies of his country, he refused the wealth the people would have 
lavished on him, and returned to his cottage and humble life. 

s Fabricius refused to be bribed by all the wealth of Pyrrhus of Epirus to negotiate a 
peace for that King with the Romans, and died so poor that he was obliged to be buried at 
the public expense. 

6 Curius Dentatus, when offered a large sum of money by the Samnites, as he sat by the 
fire roasting turnips with his own hands, refused it, saying that it was not his ambition to 
be rich, but to command those who were so. 

7 The story of how Regulus kept his word to the Carthaginians, and returned to die in 
torture rather than break his pledged promise, is well known. 



f-- 



^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. . 353 

For I esteem those names of men so poor, 

Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 

Riches though offer'd from the hands of kings. 

And what in me seems wanting, but that I 

May also in this poverty as soon 

Accomplish what they did, perhaps, and more? 

Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, 

The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt 

To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, 

Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. 

What, if with like aversion I reject 

Riches and realms ? yet not, for that a crown, 

Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, 

Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights. 

To him who wears the regal diadem, 

When on his shoulders each man's burden lies ; 

For therein stands the office of a king. 

His honor, vrtue, merit, and chief praise, 

That for the public all this weight he bears. 

Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules 

Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king ; 

Which ev'ry wise and virtuous man attains : 

And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 

Cities of men, or head strong multitudes, 

Subject himself to anarchy within, 

Or lawless passions in him, which he serves. 

But to guide nations in the way of truth. 

By saving doctrine, and from error lead 

To know, and knowing worship God aright. 

Is yet more kingly ; this attracts the soul. 

Governs the inner man, the nobler part ; 

That other o'er the body only reigns, 

And oft by force, which to a generous mind. 

So reigning, can be no sincere delight. 

Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 

£^__ : ^ 



s- -^ 

354 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 
Far more magnanimous than to assume. 
Riches are needless then, both for themselves, 
And for thy reason why they should be sought, 
To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd. 



^ -^ 



^ ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 355 



BOOK III. 

So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood 
Awhile as mlite, confounded what to say, 
What to reply, confuted and convinced 
Of his weak arguing and fallacious drift ; 
At length, collecting all his serpent wiles. 
With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts. 

I see thou know'st what is of use to know, 
What best to say canst say, to do canst do ; 
Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words 
To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart 
Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. 
Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult. 
Thy counsel would be as the oracle 
Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 
On Aaron's breast ; or tongue of seers old 
Infallible : or wert thou sought to deeds 
That might require th' array of war, thy skill 
Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist 
In battle, though against thy few in arms. 
These god-like virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 
Affecting private life, or more obscure 
In savage wilderness ? wherefore deprive 
All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself 
The fame and glory, glory the reward 
That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 
Of most erected spirits, most temper'd pure 
.^therial, who all pleasures else despise, 
All treasures and all gain esteeem as dross, 
And dignities and powers, all but the highest ? 

^ ^ 



^ -^ 

356 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Thy years are ripe/ and over-ripe ; the son 
Of Macedonian Philip^ had ere these 
Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
At his dispose ; young Scipio^ had brought down 
The Carthaginian pride ; young Pompey quell'd 
The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode.* 
Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, 
Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 
Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, 
The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 
With glory, wept that he had lived so long 
Inglorious,^ but thou yet art not too late. 

To whom our Saviour calmly thus replied. 
Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 
For glory's sake by all thy argument. 
For what is glory but the blaze of fame, 
The people's praise, if always praise unmixt? 
And what the people but a herd confused, 
A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 

Things vulgar, and well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise? 
They praise and they admire they know not what, 
And know not whom, but as one leads the other : 
And what delight to be by such extoll'd. 
To live upon their tongues and be their talk, 
Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise, 
His lot who dares be singularly good. 
Th' intelligent among them and the wise 

1 Our Saviour was then "about thirty years of age." Luke iii. 23. 

2 Alexander the Great. 

3 Scipio was only twenty-nine years old when he conquered the Carthaginians. 
* Pompey distinguished himself in his youth ; but when he conquered Mithridates he was 

forty years old. 

5 Julius C?esar, whilst meditating over a " Life of Alexander," was seen to weep by his 
friends. On being asked the reason of his tears, he replied, " Do you not think I have just 
cause to weep, when I consider that Alexander at my age had conquered so many nations, 
and I in all these years have done nothing memorable? " — Plutarch. 



s [ ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 357 

Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 

This is true glory and renown, when God, 

Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 

The just man, and divulges him through heaven 

To all His angels, who with true applause 

Recount his praises. Thus He did to Job, 

When, to extend his fame through hcav'n and earth, 

As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 

He ask'd thee. Hast thou seen my servant Job ? 

Famous he was in heav'n, on earth less known ; 

Where glory is false glory, attributed 

To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 

They err who count it glorious to subdue 

By conquest far and wide, to overrun 

Large countries, and in field great battles win. 

Great cities by assault : what do these worthies, 

But rob, and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 

Peaceable nations, neigboring or remote, 

Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 

Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 

Nothing but ruin whereso'er they rove. 

And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, 

Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods. 

Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 

Worshipp'd with temple, priest, aud sacrifice ; 

One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other ; 

Till conqueror death discover them scarce men, 

Rolling in brutish vices, and deform'd, 

Violent or shameful death their due reward. 

But if there be in glory aught of good. 

It may by means far different be attain'd 

Without ambition, war, or violence ; 

By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent. 

By patience, temperance. I mention still 

Him whom thy wrongs with saintly patience borne 

Made famous in a land and times obscure ; 



^a^ -^ 

358 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Who names not now with honor patient Job ? 
Poor Socrates, who next more memorable ? 
By what he taught and suffer'd for so doing, 
For truth's sake suffering death unjust, hves now 
Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. 
Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 
Aught suffer'd ; if young African ' for fame 
His wasted country freed from Punic rage, 
The deed becomes unpraised, the man at least, 
And loses, though but verbal his reward. 
Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek. 
Oft not deserved? I seek not mine, but His 
Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am. 

To whom the tempter murmuring thus replied. 
Think not so slight of glory, therein least 
Resembling thy great Father : He seeks glory. 
And for His glory all things made, all things 
Orders and governs ; nor content in heav'n 
By all His angels glorified requires 
Glory from men, from all men good or bad, 
Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption ; 
Above all sacrifice or hallow'd gift 
Glory He requires, and glory He receives 
Promiscuous from all nations, Jew, or Greek, 
Or barbarous, nor exception hath declared : 
From us. His foes pronounced, glory He exacts. 

To whom our Saviour fervently replied. 
And reason, since His word all things produced, 
Though chiefly not for glory as prime end. 
But to show forth His goodness, and impart 
His good communicable to every soul 
Freely ; of whom what could He less expect 
Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks. 
The slightest, easiest, readiest, recompense 

1 Scipio Africanus. 

^ ^ 



f ' -<b 

PARADISE REGAINED. 359 

From them who could return Him nothing- else 
And not returning that would likeliest render 
Contempt instead, dishonor, obloquy ? 

Hard recompense, unsuitable return 

For so much good, so much beneficence. 

But why should man seek glory, who of his own 

Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 

But condemnation, ignominy, and shame? 

Who for so many benefits received 

Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false. 

And so of all true good himself despoil'd, 

Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 

That which to God alone of right belono-s • 

Yet so much bounty is in Goo, such grace. 

That who advance His glory, not their own. 

Them He Himself to glory will advance. 
So spake the Son of God ; and here again 

Satan had not to answer, but stood struck 

With guilt of his own sin, for he himself 

Insatiable of glory had lost all ; 

Yet of another plea bethought him soon. 

Of glory, as thou wilt, said he, so deem. 
Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass. 
But to a kingdom thou art born, ordain'd 
To sit upon thy father David's throne. 
By mother's side thy father ; though thy right 
Be now in powerful hands, that will not part 
Easily from possession won with arms. 
Judsa now and all the promised land. 
Reduced a province under Roman yoke, 
Obeys Tiberius; nor is always ruled 
With temperate sway : oft have they violated 
The temple,^ oft the law with foul affronts, 
Abominations rather, as did once 



1 Pompey, with several of his officers, entered the Holy of Holies, where none were al- 
lowed to step except the high priest once a year, on the great day of expiation. 

^^^— -^ 



^ 



■Qp 



360 



PARADISE REGAINED. 

Antiochus •} and think'st thou to regain 

Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring ? 

So did not Maccabeus :^ he indeed 

Retired unto the desert, but with arms ; 

And o'er a mighty king so oft prevail'd, 

That by strong hand his family obtain'd, 

Though priests, the crown, and David's throne U3urp'd, 

With Modin and her suburbs once content. 

If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 

And duty; zeal and duty are not slow; 

But on occasion's forelock^ watchful wait. 

They themselves rather are occasion best, 

Zeal of thy father's house, duty to free 

Thy country from her heathen servitude; 

So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 

The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign ; 

The happier reign the sooner it begins ; 

Reign then; what canst thou better 'do the while ? 
To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd. 

All things are best fulfill'd in their due time, 

And time there is for all things. Truth had said :* 

If of my reign prophetic writ hath told 

That it shall never end, so when begin 

The Father in his purpose hath decreed. 

He in whose hands all times and seasons roll.^ 

What, if He hath decreed that I shall first 

Be tried in humble state and things adverse, 

By tribulations, injuries, insults. 

Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence. 

Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting. 

Without distrust or doubt, that he may know 



1 2 Maccab. v. 

« Judas Maccabeus. Modin was the inheritance of the Maccabees. 

s The Greek and Latin poets represented Time (or Opportunity) with a single lock of 
hair in front. The expression of seizing Time by the forelock is proverbial. 
* Eccles. iii. 1. ^ Acts i. 7. Mark xii. 32. 



^ 



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4^- 



What I can suffer, how obey ? Who best 

uTuf7' ^u"'','"? "^^^ ^''' ^^'g"' ^^'ho first 
Well hath obey'd :' just trial, ere I merit 

My exaltation without change or end. 

But what concerns it thee when I begin 

My everlasting kingdom ? why art th'^ou 

Solicitous ? what moves thy inquisition ? 

Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall 

And my promotion will be thy destruction ? 

To whom the tempter, inly rack'd, replied 

Let that come when it comes ; all hope is lost 

Of my reception into grace: what worse? 

For where no hope is left, is left no fear • 

If there be worse, the expectation more 

Of worse torments me than the feelino- can 

I would be at the worst, worst is my port 

My harbor, and my ultimate repose ; 

The end I would attain, my final good. 

My error was my error, and my crime 

My crime ; whatever for itself condemn'd 

And will alike be punish'd, whether thou ' 

Re.gn or reign not; though to that gentle brow 

Willmgly I could fly, and hope thy reign 

From that placid aspect and meek rega'^d' 

Rather than aggravate my evil state, "^ 

Would stand between me and thy Father's ire 

(Whose ire I dread more than the fire of hell )' 

A shelter, and a kind of shading cool 

Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 

If I then to the worst that can be haste, 

Why move thy feet so slow to what is b-st 

Happiest both to thyself and all the world ' 

ihat thou who worthiest art should'st be their kin<.? 

^"'^^P' ^^^°" ^'"ger'st in deep thoughts detain'd " 

1 "Qui bene imperat, paruerit aliquando nece«^ P.f • »* '■ Z 

aliquando i.peret. dignus e.e^-clT.o, ^ZZ\'^^^^^ P^^' -<^--. <iui 



a ^ -^ 

362 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Of the enterprize so hazardous and high : 

No wonder, for, though in thee be united 

What of perfection can in man be found, 

Or human nature can receive, consider, 

Thy Hfe hath yet been private, most part spent 

At home, scarce view'd the GaHlean towns, 

And once a year Jerusalem,' few days' 

Short sojourn ; and what thence could'st thou observe? 

The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory, 

Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts. 

Best school of best experience, quickest insight 

In all things that to greatest actions lead. 

The wisest, unexperienced, will be ever 

Timorous and loth, with novice modesty, 

As he who seeking asses found a kingdom,^ 

Irresolute, unhardy, unadvent'rous : 

But I will bring thee where thou soon shall quit 

Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes 

The monarchies of the earth, their pomp and state. 

Sufficient introduction to inform 

Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts 

And regal mysteries, that thou may'st know 

How best their opposition to withstand. 

With that (such power was given him then) he took 
The Son of God up to a mountain high.^ 
It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
A spacious plain outstretch'd in circuit wide 
Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flow'd,* 
The one winding, the other straight, and left between 
Fair champaign with less rivers intervein'd, 



J At the Passover. * Saul. See i Sam. ix. 20, 21. 

3 Milton is supposed to mean Mount Niphates, in the Taurus, which rises immediately 
above Assyria, and from whence he had made Satan survey Eden in the " Paradise Lost." 
— See DUNSTER. 

* The Euphrates — "vagus Euphrates" — and the Tigris, the course of which was very 
straight.— Todd. 

^fe '■ -^ 



a ■ -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 363 

Then meeting join'd their tribute to the sea : 

Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil and wine, 

With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the hills ; 

Huge cities and high tower'd, that well might seem 

The seats of mightiest monarchs, and so large 

The prospect was that here and there was room 

For barren desert, fountainless and dry. 

To this high mountain top the tempter brought 

Our Saviour, and new train of words began. 

Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
Forest and field, and flood, temples, arid towers, 
Cut shorter many a league ; here thou behold'st 
Assyria, and her empire's ancient bounds, 
Araxes, and the Caspian lake, thence on 
As far as Indus east, Euphrates west. 
And oft beyond ; to south the Persian bay. 
And inaccessible the Arabian drought:^ . 

Here Nineveh, of length within her wall 
Several days' journey, built by Ninus old, ^ 

Of that first golden monarchy the seat, 
And seat of Salmanassar,^ whose success j 

Israel in long captivity still mourns; i 

There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues, 
As ancient, but rebuilt by him^ who twice 
Judah and all thy father David's house 
Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste, 
Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis 
His city there thou seest, and Bactra there ; 
Ecbactana her structure vast there shows, 
And Hecatompylos ■* her hundred gates ; 
There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, 

1 A figure of speech for the desert. 

2 Shalmansar, in the reign of Hezekiah, King of Judah, carried away captive to Assyria 
the ten tribes of Israel. 

3 Nebuchadnezzar. 
* Capital of Parthia, so called from its hundred gates. 



^ 



364 PARADISE REGAINED. 

The drink of none but kings ;^ of later fame 

Built by Emathian,^ or by Parthian hands. 

The great Seleucia, Nisibis,^ and there 

Artaxata, Teredon, Ctesiphon, 

Turning with easy eye thou may'st behold. 

All these the Parthian, now some ages past, 

By great Arsaces led, who founded first 

That empire, under his dominion holds. 

From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 

And just in time thou com'st to have a yiew 

Of his great power ; for now the Parthian king 

In Ctesiphon hath gather'd all his host * 

Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 

Have wasted Sogdiana ; to her aid 

He marches now in haste ; see, though from far, 

His thousands, in what martial equipage 

They issue forth, steel bows and shafts their arms, 

Of equal dread in flight'^ or in pursuit; 

All horsemen, in which fight they most excel : 

See how in warlike muster they appear. 

In rhombs, and wedges, and half-moons, and wings, 

He look'd, and saw what numbers numberless 

The city gates outpour'd, light armed troops 

In coats of mail and military pride; 

In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong, 

Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice 



1 Modern research confirms this fact in a singular manner. " It is a fact worthy of re- 
mark," says Buckingham, " that at this moment, while all the inhabitants of Kermanshah 
drink of the stream of Aub Dedoong, and of the spring called Aubi-i-Hassan-Khan, the 
King's son alone has the water for hinvself and his harem brought from the stream of the 
Kar.i Soo (the Choaspes). We drank of it ourselves as we passed, and from its superiority 
to all the waters of which we had tasted since leaving the banks of the Tigris, the draught 
was delicious enough to be sweet even to the palsied taste of royalty itself." — Quoted in 
Aldine Edition. 

2 Macedonian. ^ Also named Antiochus. 
* Ctesiphon was the place at which the Parthian kings always assembled their forces. 
5 They discharged their arrows as they fled. 

^ ■ -^ 



*- 



^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 365 

Of many provinces from bound to bound ; 

From Arachosia, from Candaor east, 

And Margiana to the Hyrcaniart cliffs 

Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales/ 

From Atropatia and the neighboring plains 

Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 

Of Susiana, to Balsara's^ haven. 

He saw them in their forms of battle ranged, 

How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them shot 

Sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face 

Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight; 

The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 

Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 

Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight, 

Chariots or elephants endorsed with towers 

Of archers, nor of laboring pioneers 

A multitude with spades and axes arm'd 

To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, 

Or, where plain was raise hill, or overlay 

With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke ; 

Mules after these, camels, and dromedaries, 

And waggons fraught with utensils of war. 

Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp. 

When Agrican^ with all his northern powers 

Besieged Albracca, as romances tell, 

The city of Gallaphrone, from thence to win 

The fairest of her sex Ansfelica 



1 Said to be " dark " from their thick forests. 

2 The Persian Gulf, so called from Bussora, or Balsera, the port situated on it. 
^Agricano, one of the heroes of Boiardo's "Orlando Inamorato." Angelica, his 

daughter, was fabled to be the most beautiful woman of the age, and, like Helen of Troy, 
a fair mischief, who gave rise to continual strife. She reappears in Ariosto's " Orlando 
Furioso." Orlando goes mad for love of her. We must remember, when we marvel 
somewhat at this blending ot truth and hction, that the poems ot Ariosto and Boiardo had 
probably been the delight of Milton's youth ; and that he is alluding to the greatest poets 
of bis own age, not merely to romances. 

^ —4^ 



■e? 



366 PARADISE REGAINED, 

His daughter, sought by many prowest^ knights. 
Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 
Such and so numerous was their chivalry ; 
At sight whereof the fiend yet more presumed. 
And to our Savior thus his words renew'd. 

That thou may'st know I seek not to engage 
Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
On no slight grounds thy safety, hear and mark 
To what end I have brought thee hither and shown 
All this fair sight; thy kingdom, though foretold 
By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
Endeavor, as thy fatlicr David did, 
Thou never shalt obtain ; prediction still 
In all things, and all men, supposes means. 
Without means used, what it predicts revokes. 
But say thou wert possess'd of David's throne 
By free con ent of all, none opposite 
Samaritan or Jew; how could'st thou hope 
Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 
Between two such enclosing enemies, 
Roman and Parthian ? therefore one of these 
Thou must make sure thy own. the Parthian first 
By my advice, as nearer, and of late 
Found able by invasion to annoy 
Thy country, and captive lead away her kings, 
Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus^ bound, 
Maugre the Roman. It shall be my task 
To render thee the Parthian at dispose ; 
Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league 
By him thou shalt regain, without him not. 
That which alone can truly reinstall thee 
In David's royal seat, his true successor, 



1 Prowest is the superlative of prow, from the old French preux, valiant. — DUNSTER. 
> The Parthians led Hyrcanus away captive to Seleucia when he was seventy years old. — 
See JOSEPilUS. 



PARADISE REGAINED. 367 

Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes, 
Whose offspring in his territory yet serve, 
In Habor, and among the Medes dispersed ; 
Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost 
Thus long from Israel, serving, as of old 
Their fathers in the land of Egypt served, 
This offer sets before thee to deliver. 
These if from servitude thou shalt restore 
To their inheritance, then, nor till then. 
Thou on the throne of David in full glory, 
From Egypt to Euphrates and beyond, 
Shalt reign, and Rome or Caesar not need fear. 

To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmoved. 
Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm. 
And fragile arms, much instrument of war 
Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought, 
Before mine eyes thou hast set ; and in my ear 
Vented much policy, and projects deep 
Of enemies, of aids, battles, and leagues, 
Plausible to the world, to me worth nought. 
Means I must use, thou say'st, prediction else 
Will unpredict and fail me of the throne. 
My time, I told thee, (and that time for thee 
Were better farthest off,) is not yet come ; 
When that comes, think not thou to find me slack 
On my part aught endeavoring, or to need 
Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 
Luggage of war there shown me, argument 
Of human weakness rather than of strength. 
My brethren, as thou call'st them, those ten tribes 
I must deliver, if I mean to reign 
David's true heir, and his full sceptre sway 
To just extent over all Israel's sons. 
But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then 
For Israel, or for David, or his throne. 
When thou stood'st up his tempter to the pride 



^ 



s -^ 

368 " PARADISE REGAINED. 

Of numb'ring Israel, which cost the hves 
Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites 
By three days' pestilence ?' such was thy zeal 
To Israel then, the same that now to me. 
As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 
From God to worship calves, the deities 
Egypt, Baal next, and Ashtaroth, 
And all th' idolatries of heathen round. 
Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes ; * 
Nor in the land of their captivity. 
Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 
The God of their forefathers ; but so died 
Impenitent, and left a race behind 
Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 
From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain, 
And God with idols in their worship join'd. 
Should I of these the liberty regard. 
Who freed as to their ancient patrimony, 
Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreforin'd, 
Headlong would follow ; and to their gods perhaps 
Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve 
Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 
Yet he at length, time to himself best known, 
Rememb'ring Abraham, by some wondrous call 
May bring them back repentant and sincere. 
And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood. 
While to their native land with joy they haste, 
As the Red Sea a.nd Jordan once he cleft, 
When to the promised land their fathers pass'd; 
To his due time and providence I leave them. 
So spake Israel's true king, and to the fiend 
Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles. 
So fares it when with truth falsehood contends. 

1 I Chron. xxi. i. 

4^-^ ^-4^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 369 



BOOK IV. 

Perplex'd and troubled at his bad success 

The tempter stood, nor had what to reply, 

Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope 

So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 

That sleek'd his tongue, and won so much on Eve ; 

So little here, nay lost: but Eve was Eve, 

This far his over-match, who self-deceived 

And rash before-hand had no better weigh'd 

The strength he was to cope with, or his own : 

But as a man who had been matchless held 

In cunning, over-reach'd where least he thought, 

To salve his credit, and for very spite. 

Still will be tempting him who foils him still, 

And never cease, though to his shame the more ; 

Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time. 

About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd, 

Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound ; 

Or surging waves against a solid rock, 

Though all to shivers dash'd, the assault renew, 

Vain batt'ry, and in froth or bubbles end; 

So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 

Met ever, and to shameful silence brought. 

Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success, 

And his vain importunity pursues. 

He brought our Savior to the western side 

Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 

Another plain,^ long, but in breadth not wide, 

Wash'd by the southern sea, and on the north 

1 Italy, washed by the Mediterranean. 
24 

<^ ^ 



<b 



370 PARADISE REGAINED. 

To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills/ 
That screen'd the fruits of the earth and seats of men 
From cold Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst 
Divided by a river, of whose banks 
On each side an imperial city stood, 
With towers and temples proudly elevate 
On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd, 
Porches, and theatres, baths, aqueducts, 
Statues, and trophies, and triumphal arcs. 
Gardens, and groves presented to his eyes. 
Above the highth of mountains interposed: 
By what strange parallax or optic skill 
Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass 
Of telescope, were curious to enquire: 
And now the tempter thus his silence broke. 
The city which thou seest no other deem 
Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the earth 
So far renown'd, and with the spoils enrich'd 
Of nations ; there the Capitol thou seest 
Above the rest lifting his stately head 
On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
Impregnable, and there mount Palatine, 
Th' imperial palace, compass huge, and high 
The structure, skill of noblest architects. 
With gilded battlements conspicuous far, 
Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires. 
Many a fair edifice besides, more like 
Houses of gods, so well I have disposed 
My aery microscope, thou mayst behold 
Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, 
Carved work, the hand of famed artificers 
In cedar, marble, ivory or gold. 
Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see 
What conflux issuing forth, or ent'ring in, 



1 The Apennines. 



PARADISE REGAINED. ij\ 

Praetors, proconsuls to their provinces 

Hasting, or on return, in robes of state; 

Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power. 

Legions and cohorts, turms' of horse and wings; 

Or embassies from regions far remote 

In various habits on the Appian road, 

Or on th' Emihan,^ some from farthest south 

Syene,^ and where the shadow both way falls, 

Meroe, Nilotic isle, and more to west. 

The realm of Bocchus* to the Black-moor sea; 

From the Asian kings and Parthian, among these, 

From India and the golden Chersonese, 

And utmost Indian isle Taprobane, 

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd : 

From Gallia, Gades,^ and the British west, 

Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians north 

Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool.® 

All nations now to Rome obedience pay, 

To Rome's gr^at emperor, whoSe wide domain 

In ample territory, wealth, and power, 

Civility of manners, arts, and arms, 

And long renown, thou justly may'st prefer 

Before the Parthian ; these two thrones except, 

The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight, 

Shared among petty kings too far removed. 

These having shown thee, I have shown thee all 

The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 

This emperor'^ hath no son, and now is old, 

Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired 

To Capreae, an island small but strong 

1 Troops of horse, a word coined from the Latin turtna. •' Equitum turmae.'" — ViRG. 
y£«. V. 360. — Newton. 

2 The Appian road led towards the south of Italy, and the Emilian towards the north. 

3 Put for the farthest point of the Roman Empire. 

* Mauritania. * Cadiz, in Spain, the extreme west of the Roman Empire. 

6 Palus Moeotis, or Black Sea. ' Tiberius. 



^ -^ 

372 PARADISE REGAINED. 

On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 

His horrid lusts in private to enjoy, 

Committing to a wicked favorite' 

All public cares, and yet of him suspicious, 

Hated of all and hating : with what ease, 

Indued with regal virtues as thou art, 

Appearing and beginning noble deeds, 

Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne 

Now made a sty, and, in his place ascending, 

A victor people free from servile yoke? 

And with my help thou may'st ; to me the power 

Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 

Aim therefore at no less than all the world, 

Aim at the highest without the highest attain'd 

Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 

On David's throne, be prophesied what will. 

To whom the Son of God unmoved replied. 
Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 
Of luxury, though cail'd magnificence, 
More than of arms before, allure mine eye. 
Much less my mind; though thou should'st add to tell 
Their sumptuous gluttonies and gorgeous feasts 
On citron tables^ or Atlantic stone, 
For I have also heard, perhaps have read. 
Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne,^ 
Chios, and Crete,^ and how they quaff in gold, 
Crystal and myrrhine cups emboss'd with gems 
And studs of pearl, to me should'st tell who thirst 
And hunger still. Then embassies thou show'st 
From nations far and nigh. What honor that, 

1 Sejanus. 

2 Tables of citron-wood were very highly valued by the Romans. It grew on Mount 
Atlas. Atlantic stone was probably marble from Numidia. Pliny, in his //w/. Nat. lib. v. 
c. i., says that the woods of Atlas were explored for citron-wood. 

3 These were famous Campanian wines. Falerian was the best wine they possessed. 
* Greek wines. 

^ -^ 



a- ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 373 

But tedious waste of time to sit and hear 

So many hollow compliments and lies, 

Outlandish flatteries ? then proceed'st to talk 

Of the emperor, hovv easily subdued, 

How gloriously ; I shall, thou say'st, expel 

A brutish monster: what if I withal 

Expel a devil who first made him such ? 

Let his tormentor conscience find him out; 

For him I was not sent, nor yet to free 

That people, victor once, now vile and base, 

Deservedly made vassal, who, once just, 

Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well, 

But govern ill the nation under yoke. 

Peeling their provinces, exhausted all 

But lust and rapine ; first ambitious grown 

Of triumph, that insulting vanity; 

Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 

Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed, 

Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 

And from the daily scene effeminate. 

What wise and valiant man would seek to free 

These thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved. 

Or could of inward slave make outward free? 

Know therefore, when my season comes to sit 

On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 

Spreading and overshadowing all the earth. 

Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash 

All monarchies besides throughout the world. 

And of my kingdom there shall be no end. 

Means there shall be to this, but what the means. 

Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell. 

To whom the tempter impudent replied, 
I see all offers made by me how slight 
Thou valu'st, because ofifer'd, and reject'st; 
Nothing will please the difficult and nice. 
Or nothing more than still to contradict. 

a^ , ^ 



C7- 



^ 



374 PARADISE REGAINED. 

On the other side know also thou, that I 
On what I offer set as high esteem, 
Nor what I part with mean to give for nought ; 
All these which in a moment thou behold'st, 
The kingdoms of the world to thee I give ; 
For, giv'n to me, I give to whom I please, 
No trifle ; yet with this reserve, not else, 
On this condition, if thou wilt fall down. 
And worship me as thy superior lord, 
Easily done, and hold them all of me : 
For what can less so great a gift deserve? 

Whom thus our Savior answer'd with disdain. 
I never liked thy talk, thy offers less, 
Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter 
The abominable terms, impious condition ; 
But I endure the time, till which expired, 
Thou hast permission on me. It is written 
The first of all commandments. Thou shalt worship 
The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve ; 
And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound 
To worship thee accurst, now more accurst 
For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, 
And more blasphemous? which expect to rue. 
The kingdoms of the world to thee were giv'n. 
Permitted rather, and by thee usurp'd. 
Other donation none thou canst produce : 
If giv'n, by whom but by the King of kings, 
God over all Supreme ? if given to thee, 
By thes how fairly is the giver now 
Repaid ? but gratitude in thee is lost 
Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame. 
As offer them to me the Son of God, 
To me my own, on such abhorred pact. 
That I fall down and worship thee as God? 
Get thee behind me ; plain thou now appear'st 
That evil one, Satan for ever damn'd. 



% 



-4 



PARADISE REGAINED. 375 

To whom the fiend with fear abash'd replied. 
Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
Though sons of God both angels are and men, 
If I, to try whether in higher sort 
Than these thou bear'st that title, have proposed 
What both from men and angels I receive, 
Tetrachs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth 
Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds, 
God of this world invoked and world beneath ; 
Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 
To me so fatal, me it most concerns. 
The trial hath indamaged thee no way. 
Rather more honor left and more esteem ; 
Me nought advantaged, missing what I aim'd. 
Therefore let pass, as they are transitory. 
The kingdoms of this world ; I shall no more 
Advise thee; gain them as thou canst, or not. 
And thou thyself Seem'st otherwise inclined 
Than to a worldly crown, addicted more 
To contemplation and profound dispute. 
As by that early action may be judged, 
When slipping from thy mother's eye, thou vvent'st 
Alone into the temple, thou wast found 
Amongst the gravest rabbles disputant 
On points and questions fitting Moses' chair, 
Teaching, not taught. The childhood shows the man, 
As morning shows the day. Be famous then 
By wisdom ; as thy empire must extend. 
So let extend thy mind o'er all the world 
In knowledge, all things in it comprehend : 
AH knowledge is not couch'd in Moses' law. 
The Pentateuch, or what the prophets wrote ; 
The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach 
To admiration, led by nature's light ; 
And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 
Ruling them by persuasion as thou mean'st; 



a- 



^ 



3/6 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Without their learning how wilt thou with them, 

Or they with thee, hold conversation meet ? 

How wilt thou reason with them? how refute 

Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes ? 

Error by his own arms is best evinced. 

Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, 

Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold 

Where on the yEgean shore a city stands 

Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil, 

Athens the eye of Greece,^ mother of arts 

And eloquence, native to famous wits, 

Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, 

City or suburban, studious walks and shades ; 

See there the olive grove of Academe,^ 

Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird^ 

Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long; 

There flow'ry hill Hymettus with the sound 

Of bees' industrious murmur oft invites 

To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls 

His whispering stream ; within the walls then view 

The schools of ancient sages; his* who bred 

Great Alexander to sudue the world; 

Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next. 

There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power 

Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit 

By voice or hand, and various-measured verse, 

/Eolian charms^ and Dorian lyric odes, 

I So called by Demosthenes. — NfiWTON. 

^ "A gymnasium, or place of exercise," in the suburbs of Athens, surrounded by woods. 
It took its name from Academus, one of the heroes. In this Academe, or Academy, Plato 
taught. 

•* The nightingale; i.e., Philomela, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens, was 
changed into a nightingale. 

^ Aristotle. The Lyceum was the school of Aristotle. Stoa was the school of Zeno, 
whose disciples were hence called Stoics. This Stoa, ox portico was adorned with a variety 
of paintings. 

6 /Eolian charms. The poems of Alcoeus and Sappho ; the Dorian lyric odes were those 
of Pindar.— Newton. 



I 

PARADISE REGAINED. 377 

And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
BHnd Melesigenes/ thence Homer call'd, 
Whose poem Phoebus challenged for his own. 
Thence what the the lofty grave tragedians taught 
In Chorus or lambick, teachers best 
Of moral prudence, with delight received, 
In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
Of fate and chance, and change in human life ; 
High actions and high passions best describing. 
Thence to the famous orators repair, 
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 
Wielded at will that fierce democratic, 
Shook the arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece, 
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne : 
To sage philosophy next lend thine ear. 
From heav'n descended to the low-rooft house 
Of Socrates; see there his tenement, 
Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 
Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued forth 
Mellifluous streams that vvater'd all the schools 
Of Academics^ old and new, with those 
Surnamed Peripatetics,^ and the sect 
Epicurean, and the Stoic severe ; 
These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home, 
Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight ; 
These rules will render thee a king complete 
Within thyself, much more with empire join'd. 

To whom our Saviour thus sagely replied. 
Think not but that I know^ these things, or think 
I know them not ; not therefore am I short 
Of knowing what I ought : he who receives 
Light from above, from the fountain of light, 

1 Homer was so called by his mother because he was born near the River Meles. 

2 The old Academic philosophers were those who followed Plato ; the new, those who 
followed Carneades. — See DuNSTER. 

3 Pupils of Aristotle, so called became they taught while walking, 

^ ^ -& 



^ -^ 

378 PARADISE REGAINED. 

No other doctrine needs, though granted true : 

But these are false, or little else but dreams, 

Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. 

The first and wisest of them alP professed 

To know this only, that he nothing knew ; 

The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits f 

A third sort doubted all things,^ though plain sense ; 

Others in virtue placed felicity, 

But virtue join'd with riches and long life ; 

In corporal pleasure he and careless ease ; 

The Stoic last in philosophic pride, 

By him call'd virtue ; and his virtuous man, 

Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing, 

Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer, 

As fearing God nor man, contemning all 

Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life. 

Which when he lists he leaves, or boasts he can, 

For all his tedious talk is but vain boast. 

Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 

Alas ! what can they teach and not mislead, 

Ignorant of themselves, of God much more. 

And how the world began, and how man fell 

Degraded by himself, on grace depending ? 

Much of the soul they talk, but all awry. 

And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves 

All glory arrogate, to God give none, 

Rather accuse him under usual names, 

Fortune and fate, as one regardless quite 

Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these 

True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion 

Far worse, her false resemblance only meets. 

An empty cloud."* However, many books 

1 Socrates. 2 Plato. 

3 The Pyrrhonians, or disciples of Pyrrho, who were sceptics. — Newton. 
*An allusion to the fable of Ixion, who embraced a cloud which had the form of Juno. — 
Newton, 



4- 



4^ 



^ 



' — ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 379 

Wise men have said are wearisome •} who reads 

Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 

A spirit and judgment equal or superior, 

(And what he brings what need he elsewhere seek '') 

Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 

Deep versed in books and shallow in himself, 

Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys, 

And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge ; 

As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 

Or if I would delight my private hours 

With music or with poem, where so soon 

As in our native language can I find 

That solace ? all our law and story strew'd 

With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscribed, 

Our Hebrew songs and harps in Babylon, 

That pleased so well our victor's ear, declare 

That rather Greece from us these arts derived ; 

111 imitated, while they loudest sing 

The vices of their deities and their own 

In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 

Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame. 

Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid 

As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest. 

Thin sown, with aught of profit or delight. 

Will far be found unworthy to compare 

With Sion's songs, to all true tastes excelling, 

Where God is praised aright, and godlike men, 

The Holiest of Holies, and his saints: 

Such are from God inspired, not such from thee, 

Unless where moral virtue is express'd 

By light of nature not in all quite lost. 

Their orators thou then extol'st, as those 

The top of eloquence, statists indeed, 

And lovers of their country, as may seem ; 



^ 



^ 



380 PARADISE REGAINED. 

But herein to our prophets far beneath, 
As men divinely taught, and better teaching 
The solid rules of civil government 
In their majestic unaffected style, 
Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 
In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt, 
What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so, 
What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat ; 
These only with our law best form a king. 

So spake the Son of God ; but Satan, now, 
Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent. 
Thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied. 

Since neither wealth, nor honor, arms, nor arts, 
Kingdom nor empire pleases thee, nor aught 
By me proposed in life contemplative 
Or active, tended on by glory or fame. 
What dost thou in this world ? the wilderness 
For thee is fittest place ; I found thee there, 
And thither will return thee ; yet remember 
What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause 
To wish thou never hadst rejected thus 
Nicely or cautiously my offer'd aid. 
Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season. 
When prophecies of thee are best fulfill'd. 
Now contrary, if I read aught in heav'n, 
Or heav'n write aught of fate, by what the stars. 
Voluminous, or single characters. 
In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 
Sorrows, and labors, opposition, hate, 
Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries, 
Violence, and stripes, and lastly cruel death ; 
A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom. 
Real or allegoric, I discern not, 
Nor when, eternal sure, as without end, 



^ 



-^ 



^ 



^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 381 

Without beginning ; for no date prefixt 
Directs me in the starry rubric set. 

So saying he took, for still he knew his pow'r 
Not yet expired, and to the wilderness 
Brought back the Son of God, and left him there, 
Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose, 
As daylight sunk, and brought in low'ring Night, 
Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, 
Privation mere of light and absent day. 
Our Saviour, meek and with untroubled mind 
After his aery jaunt, though hurried sore, 
Hungry and cold betook him to his rest. 
Wherever, under some concourse of shades, 
Whose branching arms thick intertwined might shield 
From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head. 
But shelter'd slept in vain, for at his head 
The tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams 
Disturbed his sleep: and either tropic now 
'Gan thunder, and both ends of heav'n the clouds 
From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd 
Fierce rain with light'ning mix'd, water with fire 
In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
From the four hinges' of the world, and fell 
On the vext wilderness, whose tallest pines. 
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks 
Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with storm}- blasts, 
Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded then, 
O patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 
Unshaken ; nor yet staid the terror there. 
Infernal ghosts and hellish furies round 
Environ'd thee ; some howl'd, some yell'd, some shriek'd, 
Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
Sat'st unappall'd in calm and sinless peace. 

1 The cardinal points — north, south, east, and west. Cardo, from whence the word car- 
dinal is derived, signifies a hinge. 



^ 



382 PARADISE REGAINED. 

Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning fair 
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray, 
Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar 
Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds, 
And grisly spectres, which the fiend had raised 
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
And now the sun with more effectual beams 
Had cheer'd the face of earth, and dried the wet 
From drooping plant or drooping tree ; the birds. 
Who all things now behold more fresh and green, 
After a night of storm so ruinous, 
Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray, 
To gratulate the sweet return of morn : 
Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn 
Was absent, after all his mischief done. 
The prince of darkness, glad would also seem 
Of this fair change, and to our Savior came, 
Yet with no new device, they all were spent, 
Rather by this his last affront resolved. 
Desperate of better course, to vent his rage. 
And mad despite to be so oft repcll'd. 
Him walking on a sunny hill he found, 
Back'd on the north and west by a thick wood : 
Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape. 
And in a careless mood thus to him said. 

Fair morning yet betides thee. Son of God, 
After a dismal night: I heard the rack 
As earth and sky would mingle, but myself 
Was distant ; and these flaws,^ though mortals fear them 
As dangerous to the pillar'd frame of heav'n. 
Or to the earth's dark basis underneath, 
Are to the main as inconsiderable 
And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze 
To man's less universe, and soon are gone ; 

1 A sea term for a sudden gust of wind. 



^ 



<b 



PARADISE REGAINED. 

Yet as being ofttimes noxious where they h'ght 

On man, beast, plant, wasteful, and turbulent, 

Like turbulencies in the affairs of men, 

Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point. 

They oft fore-signify and threaten ill : 

This tempest at this desert most was bent : 

Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st. 

Did I not tell thee, if thou did'st reject 

The perfect season offer'd with my aid 

To win thy destined seat, but wilt prolong 

All to the push of fate, pursue thy way 

Of gaining David's throne no man knows when, 

For both the when and how is no where told, 

Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt; 

For angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing 

The time and means ; each act is rightliest done 

Not when it must, but when it may be best. 

If thou observe not this, be sure to find, 

What I foretold thee, many a hard assay 

Of dangers, and adversities, and pains. 

Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold ; 

Whereof this ominous night that closed thee round, 

So many terrors, voices, prodigies, 

May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign. 

So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on 
And staid not, but in brief him answer'd thus. 

Me worse than wet thou find'st not ; other harm 
Those terrors, which thou speak'st of, did me none; 
I never fear'd they could, though noising loud 
And threat'ning nigh ; what they can do as signs 
Betok'ning, or ill-boding, I contemn 
As false portents, not sent from God, but thee ; 
Who, knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I accepting 
At least might seem to hold all pow'r of thee, 
Ambitious spirit! and would'st be thought my God, 



383 



^ 



^ 



a- -^ 

384 PARADISE REGAINED. 

And storm'st refused, thinking to terrify 
Me to thy will. Desist, thou art discern'd 
And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest. 

To whom the fiend now swoll'n with rage replied. 
Then hear, O Son of David, virgin-born ; 
For Son of God to me is yet in doubt : 
Of the Messiah I had heard, foretold 
By all the prophets ; of thy birth at length 
Announced by Gabriel with the first I knew, 
And of the angelic song in Bethlehem field, 
On thy birthnight, that sung thee Saviour born. 
From that time seldom have I ceased to eye 
Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, 
Thy manhood last, though yet in private. bred ; 
Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 
Flock'd to the Baptist, I among the rest, 
Though not to be baptized, by voice from heav'n 
Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved. 
Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 
In what degree or meaning thou art call'd 
The Son of God, which bears no single sense ; 
The Son of God I also am, or was, 
And if I was I am ; relation stands ; 
All men are sons of God ; yet thee I thought 
In some respect far higher so declared. 
Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour, 
And follow'd thee still on to this waste wild ; 
Where by all best conjectures I collect 
Thou art to be my fatal enemy. 
Good reason then, if I beforehand seek 
To understand my adversary, who. 
And what he is ; his wisdom, power-, intent; 
By pari, or composition, truce, or league, 
To win him, or win from him what I can. 
And opportunity I here have had 

<^ -^ 



a ^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 385 

To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee • 
Proof against all temptation, as a rock 
Of adamant, and as a centre firm, 
To the utmost of mere man both wise and good, 
Not more ; for honors, riches, kingdoms, glory, 
Have been before contemn'd, and may again : 
Therefore to know what more thou art than man. 
Worth naming Son of God by voice from heav'n. 
Another method I must now begin. 

So saying he caught him up, and without wing 
Of hippogrif^ bore through the air sublime 
Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ; 
Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
The holy city, lifted high her towers. 
And higher yet the glorious temple rear'd 
Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
Of alabaster, topp'd with golden spires : 
There on the highest pinnacle he set 
The Son of God, and added thus in scorn. 

There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
Will ask thee skill ; I to thy Father's house 
Have brought thee, and highest placed ; highest is best ; 
Now show thy progeny ; if not to stand. 
Cast thyself down ; safely, if Son of God ; 
For it is written. He will give command 
Concerning thee to his angels, in their hands 
They shall uplift thee, lest at any time 
Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone. 

To whom thus Jesus. Also it is written, 
Tempt not the Lord thy God : he said and stood : 
But Satan smitten with amazement fell. 
As when earth's son Antseus;^ to compare 



1 A fabulous creature, on which Ariosto's heroes were borne through the air. 

2 A giant of Libya, son of Terra (the earth) and Neptune (the sea). Alcides (Hercules) 
attacked him ; and as every time the giant touched the earth he received new strength, 

25 



^ -^ 

386 PARADISE REGAINED, 

Small things with greatest, in Irassa strove 

With Jove's Alcides, and oft foil'd still rose, 

Receiving from his mother earth new strength, 

Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple join'd, 

Throttled at length in th' air, expired and fell ; 

So after many a foil the tempter proud. 

Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 

Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall. 

And as that Theban monster^ that proposed 

Her riddle, and him who solved it not, devour'd, 

That once found out and solved, for grief and spite 

Cast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep ; 

So struck with dread and anguish fell the fiend, 

And to his crew that sat consulting, brought 

Joyless triumphals of his hoped success, 

Ruin, and dcsperation,and dismay. 

Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 

So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 

Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 

Who on their plumy vans received Him soft 

From His uneasy station, and upbore 

As on a floating couch through the blithe air. 

Then in a flow'ry valley set Him down 

On a green bank, and set before Him spread 

A table of celestial food, divine, 

Ambrosial fruits, fetch'd from the Tree of Life, 

And from the Fount of Life ambrosial drink, 

That soon refresh'd Him wearied, and repair'd 

What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd . 

Or thirst ; and, as He fed, angelic quires 

Sung heav'nly anthems of his victory 

Over temptation and the tempter proud. 

True Image of the Father, whether throned 
In the bosom of bliss, and light of light 

Hercules lifted him up into the air, and squeezed him to death in his arms. Irassa was a 
city in Libya. 1 The Sphinx. 

^ -4 



a -^ 

PARADISE REGAINED. 387 

Conceiving, or remote from heav'n, enshrined 

In fleshly tabernacle and human form, 

VVand'ring the wilderness, whatever place, 

Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing 

The Son of God, with god-like force indued 

Against the attempter of thy Father's throne. 

And thief of paradise ; him long of old 

Thou didst debel,^ and down from heav'n cast 

With all his army, now thou has avenged 

Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing 

Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise ; 

And frustrated the conquest fraudulent : 

Me never more henceforth will dare set foot 

In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke : 

For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd, 

A fairer paradise is founded now 

For Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou 

A Savior art come down to re-install 

Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be. 

Of tempter and temptation without fear. 

But thou infernal serpent, shalt not long 

Rule in the clouds ; like an autumnal star 

Or light'ning thou shalt fall from heav'n, trod down 

Under His feet: for proof, ere this thou feel'st 

Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound^ 

By this repulse received, and hold'st in hell 

No triumph. In all her gates Abaddon^ rues 

Thy bold attempt ; hereafter learn with awe 

To dread the Son of God : he all unarm'd 

Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice 

From thy demoniac holds, possession foul. 

Thee and thy legions ; yelling they shall fly, 

And beg to hide them in a herd of swine. 

Lest he command them down into the deep 

1 Conquer. 2 Rev. ix. 11. The name is here applied to hell. 

d^ — -^ 



^ -^ 

388 PARADISE REGAINED. 

IJound, and to torment sent before their time. 
Hail Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 
Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work 
Now enter, and begin to save mankind. 

Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek 
Sung victor, and from heav'nly feast refresh'd 
Brought on his way with joy ; he unobserved 
Home to his mother's house private return'd. 



^fe- ^ 



f 



^ 



Samson Agonistes. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



THE AUTHOR, 



JOHN MILTON. 



"TpayoiSi'a ixiiJ.r)(Tii 7rpa|c(os (T7TovSa^a^;, &C. 

Aristot. Poe<. c. vi. 

'Tragoedia et imitatio actionis serine, &c. per misericordiam et metum perficiens 
talium affectuum lustrationem." 



(389) 



c^ ^^ 



a- 



^ 



OF THAT SORT OF DRAMATIC POEM WHICH IS 
CALLED TRAGEDY. 



Preface written by Milton. 

Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever held the gravest, moralest, and 
most profitable of all other poems ; therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising 
pity, and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions, that is, to tem- 
per and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading or seeing 
those passions well imitated. Nor is nature wanting in her own effects to make good his 
assertion, for so in physic things of melancholic hue and quality are used against melan- 
choly, sour against sour, salt to remove salt humors. Hence philosophers and other 
gravest writers, as Cicero, Plutarch, and others, frequently cite out of tragic poets, both to 
adorn and illustrate their discourse. The Apostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to 
insert a verse of Euripides into the text of Holy Scripture, i Cor. xv. 31,1 and Parseus, 
commenting on the Revelation, divides the whole book, as a tragedy, into acts, distinguished 
each by a chorus of heavenly harpings and song between. Heretofore men in highest 
dignity have labored not a little to be thought able to compose a tragedy. Of that honor 
Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, than before of his attainirg to the tyranny. 
Augustus C^sar also had begun his "Ajax," but unable to please his own judgment with 
what he had begun, left it unfinished. Seneca, the philosopher, is by so:i:e thought the 
author of those tragedies, at least the best of them, that go under that name. Gregory 
Nazianzcn, a father of the Church, thought it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person 
to write a tragedy, which is entitled, " Christ Suffering." This is mentioned to vindicate 
tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which in the account of many it undergoes 
at this day 2 with other common interludes; happening through the poet's error of inter- 
mixing comic stuff with tragic sadness and gravity, or introducing trivial and vulgar persons, 
which by all judicious hath been counted absurd, and brought in without discretion, cor- 
ruptly to gratify the people. And though ancient tragedy use no prologue, yet using some- 
times, in case of self-defence, or explanation, that which Martial calls an epistle, in behalf 
of this tragedy coming forth after the ancient manner, much different from what among us 
passes for best, thus much beforehand may be epistled : that Chorus is here introduced after 
the Greek manner, not ancient only but modern, and still ia use among the Italians. In 
the modelling therefore of this poem, with good reason, the ancients and Italians are rather 
followed, as of much more authority and fame. The measure of verse used in the chorus is 
of all sorts, called by the Greeks Monostrophic, or rather Apolelymenon, without regard 



^ 



1 " Evil communications corrupt good manners.'" 

2 The Puritans held the drama in the utmost abhorrence. It was probably on this account 
that the Puritan Poet wrote this defence of tragedy, to justify himself for writing a drama. 



(390) 



4" 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 391 

had to Strophe, Antistrophe, or Epode, which were a kind of stanzas framed only for the 
music then used with the chorus that sung; not essential to the poem, and therefore not 
material ; or being divided into stanzas or pauses, they may be called Alloeostropha. Divi- 
sion into act and scene referring chiefly to the stage, to which this work never was intended, 
is here omitted. 

It suffices if the whole drama be found not produced beyond the fifth act ; of the style 
and uniformity, and that commonly called the plot, whether intricate or explicit, which is 
nothing indeed but such economy, or disposition of the fable as may stand best with veri- 
similitude ind decorum, they only will best judge who are not unacquainted with ^schuylus, 
Sophocles, and Euripides, the three tragic poets, unequalled yet by any, and the best rule 
to all who endeavor to write tragedy. The circumscription of time, wherein the whole 
drama begins and ends is, according to ancient rule and best examplci within the sp.ice of 
. wenty-four hours. 



^ 



^ : 97 

392 SAMSOy AGOXISTES. 



SAMSON AGONISTES.^ 

THE ARGUMENT. 

Samson made captive, blind, and now in the prison at Gaza, there to labor as in a 
common workhouse, on a festival-day, in the general cessation from labor, comes forth into 
the open air. to a place nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awhile and bemoan his condi- 
tion; where he happens at length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, 
which make the chorus, who seek to comfort him what they can; .then by his old father 
Manoah, who endeavors the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his liberty by 
ransom; and, lastly, that this feast was proclaimed by the Philistines as a day of thanks- 
giving for their deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet more troubles him, 
Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavor with the Philistine lords for Samson's re 
demption; who in the meanwhile is visited by other persons; and lastly by a public officer 
to require his coming to the feast before the lords and people, to play or show his strength 
in their presence. He at first refuses, dismissing the public officer with absolute denial to 
come ; at length persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to go along with him, 
who came now the second time with great threatenings to fetch him. The chorus yet re- 
maining on the place, Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son's de- 
liverance: in the midst of which discourse a Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at first, and 
afterward more distinctly, relating the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philis- 
tines, and by accident to himself ; wherewith the tragedy ends. 

THE PERSONS. 

Samson. 1 Public Officer. 

Manoah, the Father of Samson. | Messenger. 

Dalila, his Wife. Chorus of Danites. 

Harapha of Gatb. 

The Scene before the Prison in Gaza. 

Sams. A little onward lend thy guiding hand 
To these dark steps, a little further on ; 
For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade: 
There I am wont to sit, when any chance 
Relieves me from my task of servile toil. 
Daily in the common prison else enjoin'd me, 

* That is, Samson an actor; or, the fate of Samson acted in a play. "Agonistes," 
Dunster supposes, " is rather here athleta, the subject being Samson's being brought forth to 
exhibit as an athlete." 

I 

^ ^ 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 393 

Where I, a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw 

The air imprison'd also, close and damp, 

Unwholesome draught : but here I feel amends, 

The breath of heav'n fresh blowing, pure and sweet, 

With day-spring born; here leave me to respire. 

This day a solemn feast the people hold 

To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid 

Laborious works, unwillingly this rest 

Their superstition yields me ; hence with leave 

Retiring from the popular noise I seek 

This unfrequented place to find some ease ; 

Ease to the body some ; none to the mind 

From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm 

Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 

But rush upon me thronging, and present 

Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 

Oh ! wherefore was my birth from heav'n foretold 

Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 

Of both my parents all in flames ascended 

From off the altar, where an off'ring burn'd, 

As in a fiery column charioting 

His god-like presence, and from some great act 

Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race ?^ 

Why was my breeding order'd and prescribed 

As of a person separate to God, 

Design'd for great exploits, if I must die 

Betray'd, captived, and both my eyes put out, 

Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze. 

To grind in brazen fetters under task 

With this heav'n-gifted strength ? O glorious strength 

Put to the labor of a beast, debased 

Lower than bondslave ! Promise was that I 

Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver; 

Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 

1 Judges xiii. 3, 11-20. 



^ 



•€? 



394 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves, 

Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke. 

Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt 

Divine prediction : what if all foretold 

Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default. 

Whom have I to complain of but myself? 

Who this high gift of strength committed to me. 

In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 

Under the seal of silence could not keep, 

But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 

O'ercome with importunity and tears. 

O impotence of mind in body strong ! 

But what is strength without a double share 

Of wisdom ? vast, unwieldy, burthensome. 

Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 

By weakest subtleties, not made to rule, 

But to subserve where wisdom bears command. 

God, when he gave me strength, to show withal 

How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 

But peace, I must not quarrel with the will 

Of highest dispensation, which herein 

Haply had ends above my reach to know : 

Suffices that to me strength is my bane 

And proves the source of all my miseries, 

So many, and so huge, that each apart 

Would ask a life to wail ; but chief of all, 

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! 

Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, 

Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 

Light the prime work of God to me's extinct, 

And all her various objects of delight 

Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased 

Inferior to the vilest now become 

Of man or worm, the vilest here excel me ; 

They creep, yet see, I dark in light exposed 

To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong. 



% 



s- 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Within doors, or without, still as a fool 

In power of others, never in my own ; 

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 

Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse 

Without all hope of day ! 

O first created beam, and thou great Word, 

Let there be light, and light was over all ; 

Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree? 

The sun to me is dark 

^nd silent as the moon,^ 

When she deserts the night 

Hid in her vacant intcrlunar cave. 

Since light so necessary is to life. 

And almost life itself, if it be true 

That light is in the soul. 

She all in every part ; why was the sight 

To such a tender ball as th' eye confined. 

So obvious and so easy to be quench'd ? 

And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused, 

That she might look at will through every pore? 

Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 

As in the land of darkness yet in light, 

To live a life half dead, a living death. 

And buried; but O yet more miserable ! 

Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave, 

Buried, yet not exempt 

By privilege of death and burial 

From worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs, 

But made hereby obnoxious more 

To all the miseries of life, 

Life in captivity 

Among inhuman foes. 

But who are these ? for with joint pace I hear 



395 



1 Silenj Itina is the moon at or near the change, and in conjunction with the sun. — 
Meadowcourt. 



^ 



4 



396 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

The tread of many feet steering this way; 
Perhaps my enemies, who come to stare 
At my affliction, and perhaps t' insult, 
Their daily practice to afflict me more. 

Chor. This, this is he ; softly a while, 
Let us not break in upon him ; 
O change beyond report, thought, or belief! 
See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused/ 
With languish'd head unpropp'd, 
As one past hope, abandon'd, 

As by himself given over; ^ 

In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
O'er-worn and soil'd ; 

Or do my eyes misrepresent ? can this be he, • 
That heroic, that renown'd, 
Irresistible Samson ? whom unarm'd 

No strength of man or fiercest wild beast could withstand; 
Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid. 
Ran on imbattled armies clad in iron, 
And, weaponless himself. 
Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery 
Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd cuirass 
Chalybean^ temper'd steel, and frock of mail 
Adamantean proof; 
But safest he who stood aloof. 
When insupportably his foot advanced, 
In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 
Spurn'd them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite^ 
Fled from his lion ramp,"* old warriors turn'd 
Their plated backs under his heel : 



1 Stretched out. 

■■' The Chalybes were famous in the old world for their skill in working iron. Hence the 
best tempered steel was called Chalj'bean. ViRG. Georg. I. 58. "Ad Chalybes nud 
ferrum." — NeWTON. 

^ Philistine. Ascalon was a city of Philistia. 

* " Rampant," like a lion. A heraldic term. 



a ■ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 397 

Or grov'ling soil'd their crested helmets in the dust. 

Then with what trivial weapon came to hand, 

The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 

A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestine 

In Ramath-lechi,^ famous to this day : 

Then by main force puU'd up, and on his shoulders bore 

The gates of Azza,^ post, and massy bar. 

Up to the hill by Hebron, seat of giants old,^ 

No journey of a Sabbath day,^ and loaded so ; 

Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up heav'n.^ 

Which shall I first bewail, 

Thy bondage or lost sight 

Prison within prison 

Inseparably dark ? 

Thou art become, O worst imprisonment ! 

The dungeon of thyself; thy soul. 

Which men enjoying sight oft without cause complain, 

Imprison'd now indeed, 

In real darkness of the body dwells, 

Shut up from outward light, 

T' incorporate with gloomy night ! 

For inward light, alas ! 

Puts forth no visual beam. 

O mirror of our fickle state. 

Since man on earth unparallel'd ! 

The rarer thy example stands, 

By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 

Strongest of mortal men, 

To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n, 

For him I reckon not in high estate, 

Whom long descent of birth 

1 Judges XV. 17. Ramath-lechi means the lifting up, or casting away, of the jaw-bone. 

2 Another name for Gaza. 

3 The city of the Anakims, who were giants. Judges xv. 13, 14. Num. xiii. 33. 
* A Sabbath day's journey was, with the Jews, three-quarters of a geographical mile. 
5 Atlas. 



^ _^ 

398 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Or the sphere of fortune raises : 

But thee, whose strength, while virtue was her mate, 

Might have subdued the earth, 

Universally crown'd with highest praises. 

Sams. I hear the sound of words, their sense the air 
Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. 

Chor. He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in might, 
The glory late of Israel, now the grief, 
We come, thy friends and neighbors not unknown. 
From Eshtaol and Zora's^ fruitful vale, 
To visit or bewail thee, or, if better. 
Counsel or consolation we may bring, « 
Salve to thy sores : apt words have power to swage 
The tumors of a troubled mind, 
And are as balm to fester'd wounds. 

Sams. Your coming, friends, revives me, for I learn 
Now of my own experience, not by talk, 
How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
Bear in their superscription, (of the most 
I would be understood ;) in prosperous days 
They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head. 
Not to be found, though sought. Ye see, O, friends, 
How many evils have inclosed me round ; 
Yet that which was the worse now least afflicts me, 
Blindness, for had I sight, confused with shame, 
How could I once look up, or heave the head, 
Who, like a foolish pilot, have shipwreck'd 
My vessel trusted to me from above. 
Gloriously rigg'd ; and for a word, a tear, 
Fool ! have divulged the secret gift of God 
To a deceitful woman ? tell me friends, 
Am I not sung and proverb'd for a fool 
In every street ? do they not say, how well 
Are come upon him his deserts ? yet why ? 

1 Towns in the tribe of Dan. Zora was the birthplace of Samson. 

^^ ^ _^ 



^ 



^ 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 399 

Immeasurable strength they might behold, 
In me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 
This with the other should, at least, have pair'd, 
These two proportion'd ill drove me transverse. 

Chor. Tax not divine disposal : wisest men 
Have err'd, and by bad women been deceived ; 
And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise. 
Deject not then so overmuch thyself, 
Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides ; 
Yet, truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 
Why thou should'st wed Philistian women rather 
Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair 
At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 

S.\MS. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleased 
Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 
The daughter of an infidel. They knew not 
That what I motion'd was of God ; I knew 
From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
I might begin Israel's deliverance. 
The work to which I was divinely call'd. 
She proving false, the next I took to wife, 

that I never had ! fond wish too late ! 
Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
That specious monster, my accomplish'd snare. 

1 thought it lawful from my former act. 
And the same end, still watching to oppress 
Israel's oppressors. Of what now I suffer 
She was not the prime cause, but I myself. 
Who, vanquish'd with a peal of words, O weakness ! 
Gave up my fort of silence to a woman. 

Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
The Philistine, thy country's enemy. 
Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness: 
Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 

Sams. That fault I take not on me, but transfer 

d^ ^ 



f- ^ -^ 

400 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

On Israel's governors, and heads of tribes, 

Who, seeing those great acts which God had done 

Singly by me against their conquerors, 

Acknowledged not, or not at all consider'd 

Deliverance ofifer'd. I on the other side 

Used no ambition to commend my deeds, 

The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer; 

But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 

To count them things worth notice, till at length 

Their lords the Philistines with gather'd powers 

Entered Judea seeking me, who then 

Safe to the rock of Etham^ was retired, 

Not flying, but forecasting in what place 

To set upon them what advantaged best. 

Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 

The harass of their land, beset me round ; 

I willingly on some conditions came 

Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 

To the uncircumcised a welcome prey. 

Bound with two cords : but cords to me were threads 

Touch'd with the flame. On their whole liost I flew 

Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd 

Their choicest youth; they only lived who fled. 

Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole tribe. 

They had by this possess'd the towers of Gath,^ 

And lorded over them whom now they serve : 

But what more oft in nations grown corrupt, 

And by their vices brought to servitude, 

Than to love bondage more than liberty, 

Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty; 

And to despise, or envy, or suspect 

Whom God hath of his special favor raised 

As their deliverer ? If he aught begin, 

How frequent to desert him, and at last 



1 Judges XV. 8. 



^ 



f — -^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 401 

To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds ? 
Chor. Thy words to my remembrance bring 

How Succoth and the fort of Penuel 

Their great deliverer contemn'd ^ 

The matchless Gideon in pursuit 

Of Madian and her vanquish'd kings : 

And how ingrateful Ephraim 

Had dealt with Jephtha,- who by argument, 

Not worse than by his shield and spear, 

Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 

Had not his prowess quell'd their pride 
In that sore battle, when so many died 
Without reprieve adjudged to death,^ 
For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 

Sams. Of such examples add me to the roll. 
Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
But God's proposed deliverance not so. 

Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
And justifiable to men; 
Unless there be who think not God at all : 
If any be, they walk obscure ; 
For of such doctrine never was there school. 
But the heart of the fool, 
And no man therein doctor but himself. 

Yet more there be who doubt His ways not just. 
And to His own edicts found contradicting. 
Then give the reins to wand'ring thought, 
Regardless of His glory's diminution ; 
Till, by their own perplexities involved. 
They ravel more, still less resolved, 
But never find self-satisfying solution. 

As if they would confine th' Interminable, 
And tie Him to His own prescript, 



^ They refused Gideon provisions. See Judges viii. 4, 9. 

2 See Judges xi. 15-27. 3 judges xii. 1-6. 

26 



^ 






402 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Who made our laws to bind us, not Himself, 

And hath full right to exempt 

Whom so it pleases Him by choice 

From national obstriction, without taint 

Of sin, or legal debt ; 

For with His own laws He can best dispense. 

He would not else, who never wanted means, 
Nor in respect of th' enemy just cause 
To set His people free, 
Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
Against his vow of strictest purity, 
To seek in marriage that fallacious bride, 
Unclean, unchaste. 

Down reason then, at least vain reasonings down, 
Though reason here aver 
That moral verdict quits her of unclean : 
Unchaste was subsequent, her stain, not his. 

But, see ! here comes thy reverend sire 
With careful step, locks white as down, 
Old Manoah ; advise 
Forthwith how thou ought'st to receive him. 

Sams. Aye mc ! another inward grief awaked 
With mention of that name renews th' assault. 

Man. Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem, 
Though in this uncouth place ; if old respect, 
As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend. 
My son now captive, hither hath inform'd 
Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age 
Came lagging after ; say if h.e be here. 

Chor. As signal now in low dejected state, 
As erst in highest, behold him where he lies, 

Man, O miserable change ! is this the man. 
That invincible Samson, far renown'd, 
The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
Equivalent to angels walk'd their streets, 
None offering fight ; who single combatant 

(^ ^^ 



^ 

SAMSON AGOXISTES. 403 

Duell'd their armies rank'd in proud array, 
Himself an army, now unequal match 
To save himself against a coward arm'd 
At one spear's length. O ever-failing trust 
In mortal strength ! and, oh ! what not in man 
Deceivable and vain ? nay, what thing good, 
Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane ? 
I pray'd for children, and thought barrenness 
In wedlock a reproach ; I gain'd a son, 
And such a son as all men hailed me happy : 
Who would be now a father in my stead ? 
O wherefore did God grant me my request. 
And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd ? 
Why are His gifts desirable, to tempt 
Our earnest pray'rs, then, giv'n with solemn hand 
As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind ? 
For this did the angel twice descend ? for this 
Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a plant 
Select and sacred, glorious for a while, 
The miracle of men ; then in an hour 
Ensnared, assaulted, overcome, led bound, 
Thy foes' derision, captive, poor, and blind, 
Into a dungeon thrust to work with slaves ? 
Alas ! methinks whom God hath chosen once 
To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err, 
He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 
Subject him to so foul indignities, 
Be it but for honor's sake of former deeds. 

Sams, Appoint^ not heav'nly disposition, father; 
Nothing of all these evils hath befall'n me 
But justly ; I myself have brought them on, 
Sole author I, sole cause ; if aught seem vile, 
As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
The mystery of God giv'n me under pledge 

1 That is, arraign not, summon not to answer. — Wareurton. 

^ ^ -^ 



■^ 



404 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, 
A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 
This well I knew, nor was at all surprised, 
But warn'd by oft experience : did not she 
Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
The secret wrested from me in her height 
Of nuptial love profest, carrying it straight 
To them who had corrupted her, my spies 
And rivals? In this other was there found 
]\Iore faith, who also in her prime of love, 
Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold. 
Though offer'd only by the scent conceived, 
Her spurious first-born, treason against me ? 
Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers, and sighs, 
And amorous approaches, to win from me. 
My capital secret, in what part my strength 
Lay. stored, in what part summ'd, that she m.ight know; 
Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport 
• Her importunity, each time perceiving 
How openly and with what impudence 
She purposed to betray me, and which was worse 
Than undissembled hate, with what contempt 
She sought to make me traitor to myself; 
Yet, the fourth time, when, mustering all her wiles 
With blandish'd parlies, feminine assaults, 
Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night 
To storm me over watch'd and wearied out, 
At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, 
Who with a grain of manhood well resolved 
Might easily have shook off all her snares : 
But foul effeminacy held me yoked 
Her bond slave; O indignity! O blot 
To honor and religion! servile mind 
Rewarded well with servile punishment ! 
The base degree to which I now am fall'n, 



^ 



4^ 



SAMSON AGOXISTES. 405 

These rags, this grinding-, is not yet so base 
As was my former servitude, ignoble, 
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous. 
True slavery, and that blindness worse than this. 
That saw not how degenerately I served. 

Man. I cannot praise thy marriage choices, son, 
Rather approved them not; but thou didst plead 
Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st 
Find some occasion to infest our foes. 
I state not that; this I am sure, our foes 
Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 
Their captive and their triumph ; thou the sooner 
Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms 
To violate the sacred trust of silence 
Deposited within thee; which to have kept 
Tacit, was in thy power. True ; and thou bear'st 
Enough and more the burthen of that fault ; 
Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying 
That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains. 
This day the Philistines a popular feast 
Here celebrate in Gaza ;^ and proclaim 
Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud 
To Dagon, as their god, who hath deliver'd 
Thee Samson, bound and blind into their hands. 
Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. 
So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 
Besides whom is no God, compared with idols, 
Disglorified, blasphemed, and had in scorn 
By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine ; 
Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest. 
Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
Could have befall'n thee and thy father's house. 
Sams. Father, I do acknowledge and confess 

1 Judges xvi. 23. 

^ ^ ^ 



^ 



-e? 



406 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

That I this honor, I this pomp, have brought 
To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 
Among the heathen round ; to God have brought 
Dishonor, obloquy, and oped the mouths 
Of idolists and atheists ; have brought scandal 
To Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt 
In feeble hearts, propense enough before 
To waver, or fall off, and join with idols ; 
Which is my chief affliction, shame, and sorrow, 
The anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
Mine eye to harbor sleep, or thoughts to rest. 
This only hope relieves me, that the strife 
With me hath end ; all the contest is now 
'Twixt God and Dagon ; Dagon hath presumed. 
Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 
His deity comparing and preferring 
Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, 
Will not connive, or linger, thus provoked, 
But will arise, and His great name assert : 
Dagon nmst stoop, and shall ere long receive 
Such a discomfit, as shall quite dispoil him 
Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 
And with confusion blank ^ his worshippers. 

Man. With cause this hope relieves thee, and these words 
I as a prophecy receive : for God, 
Nothing more certain, will not long defer 
To vindicate the glory of His name 
Against all competition, nor will long 
Endure it, doubtful whether God be lord. 
Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done ? 
Thou mu.st not in the meanwhile here forgot 
Lie in this miserable loathsome plight 
Neglected. I already have made way 
To some Philistian lords with whom to treat 

1 Confound. 



4 



s- 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 407 

About thy ransom : well they may by this 
Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
By pains and slaveries, worse than death, Inflicted 
On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. 

Sams. Spare that proposal, father, spare the trouble 
Of that solicitation : let me here. 
As I deserve, pay on my punishment, 
And expiate, if possible, my crime, 
Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd 
Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend. 
How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 
Contempt and scorn of all, to be excluded 
All friendship, and avoided as a blab, 
The mark of fool set on his front ? 
But I God's counsel have not kept, His holy secret 
Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously, 
Weakly at least, and shamefully; a sin 
That' Gentiles in their parables condemn 
To their abyss and horrid pains confined.^ 

Man. Be penitent and for thy fault contrite, 
But act not in thy own affliction, son ; 
Repent the sin, but if the punishment 
Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids; 
Or th' execution leave to high disposal, 
And let another hand, not thine, exact 
Thy penal forfeit from thyself; perhaps 
God will relent, and quit thee all His debt, 
Who evermore approves and more accepts, 
Best pleased with humble and filial submission, 
Him who imploring mercy ?ues for life. 
Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due 
Which argues over- just, and self displeased 
For self-offence, more than for God offended. 



1 Milton is supposed here to allude to the fable of Tantalus, who, for revealing the secrets 
of the gods, was punished in hell by an insatiable thirst, and, placed in a pool of wate', 
could never succeed in tasting a drop. 



^ 



a-- 



^ 



408 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Reject not then what offer'd means : who knows 
But God hath set before us, to return thee 
Home to thy country and His sacred house, 
Where thou may'st bring thy off'rings, to avert 
His further ire, witli prayers and vows renew'd ? 

Sams. His pardon I implore ; but as for hfe, 
To what end should I seek it? when in strength 
All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes 
With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts 
Of birth from heav'n foretold, and high exploits, 
Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed, 
Fearless of danger, like a petty God 
I walk'd about, admired of all and dreaded, 
On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 
Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell 
Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, 
Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life; 
At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge 
Of all my strength in the lascivious lap 
Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me, 
Like a tame wether, all my precious fleece, 
Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, 
Shav'n and disarm'd, among mine enemies. 

Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 
Which many a famous warrior overturns, 
Thou could'st repress, nor did the dancing ruby 
Sparkling, out-pour'd, the flavor, or the smell 
Or taste that cheers the hearts of Gods and men,^ 
Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 

Sams. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd 
Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure, 
With touch etheriai of heav'n's fiery rod, 

1 Judges ix. 13. " Wine which cheereth God and man." — Mitford. 

a^ ^ ^ 



f ==¥ 

SAMSON AGOmSTES. 409 

I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 
Thirst, and refresh 'd ; nor envied them the grape. 
Whose heads that turbulent hquor fills with fumes. 

Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines 
And strongest drinks our chief support of health, 
When God with these forbidden made choice to rear 
His mighty champion, strong above compare, 
Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.'^ 

Sams. But what avail'd this temperance, not complete 

Against another object more enticing ? 
What boots it at one gate to make defence. 

And at another to let in the foe, 

Effeminately vanquish'd ? by which means, 

Now blind, dishearten'd, shamed, dishonored, quell'd, 

To what can I be useful, wherein serve 

My nation, and the work from heav'n imposed, 

But to sit idle on the household hearth, 

A burd'nous drone ; to visitants a gaze, 

Or pitied object, these redundant locks 

Robustious to no purpose clust'ring down, 

Vain monument of strength, till length of years 

And sedentary numbness craze my limbs 

To a contemptible old age obscure? 

Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread. 

Till vermin or the draffs of servile food 

Consume me, and oft invocated death 

Hasten the welcome end of all my pains. 

Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift 

Which was expressly giv'n thee to annoy them ? 
Better at home lie bedrid, not only idle. 

Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age outworn. 
But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 



1 Samson was a Nazarite from his birth. See Judges xiii. 7. Num. vi. 
i* Refuse Draff was hterally brewers' spent grains. 



■^ 



^ -^ 

410 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

From the dry ground to spring,^ thy thirst to allay 
After the brunt of battle, can. as easy 
Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, 
Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast; 
And I persuade me so ; why else this strength 
Miraculous yet remaining in those locks? 
His might continues in thee not for nought, 
Nor shall His wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 

Sams. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 
That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, 
Nor the other light of life continue long. 
But yield to double darkness nigh at hand: 
So much I feel my genial spirits droop, 
My hopes all flat, nature within me seems 
In all her functions weary of herself, 
My race of glory run, and race of shame, 
And I shall shortly be with them that rest. 

Man. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed 
From anguish of the mind and humors black, 
That mingle with thy fancy. I however 
Must not omit a father's timely care 
To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
By ransom or how else: meanwhile be calm, 
And healing words from these thy friends admit, 

Sams. O that torment should not be confined 
To the body's wounds and sores, 
With maladies innumerable 
In heart, head, breast, and reins ; 
But must secret passage find 
To th' inmost mind. 
There exercise all his fierce accidents, 
And on her purest spirits prey, 
As on entrails, joints, and limbs, 

1 Milton differs from our translation of the Bible. See Judges xv. 18. 19. He agrees 
with the Chaldee paraphast, who understood that God made a cleft in the earth or rock at 
a place called Leki. Lehi also signifies a jaw. — See Newton's notes. 



^ — ^ ^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 411 

With answerable pains, but more intense, 
Though void of corporal sense. 

My griefs not only pain me 
As a ling'ring disease, 
But, finding no redress, ferment and rage, 
Nor less than wounds immedicable 
Rankle, and fester, and gangrene. 
To black mortification. 

Thoughts my tormentors, arm'd with deadly stings. 
Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, 
Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 
Dire inllammation, which no cooling herb, 
Or medcinal^ liquor can assuage, 
Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. 
Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
To death's benumbing opium as my only cure : 
Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, 
And sense of heav'n's desertion. 

I was his nursling once, and choice delight, 
His destined from the womb. 
Promised by heavenly message twice descending : 
Under His special eye 
Abstemious I grew up and thrived amain ; 
He led me on to mightiest deeds, 
Above the nerve of mortal arm, 
Against the uncircumcised, our enemies : 
But now hath cast me off as never known, 
And to those cruel enemies. 
Whom I by His appointment had provoked. 
Left me all helpless with the irreparable 
Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 
The subject of their cruelty and scorn. 
Nor am I in the list of them that hope ; 
Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless ; 

1 Milton always spells this word " medcinal." — MiTFORD. 

^ -^ 



a- 



^ 



412 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 

This one prayer yet remains, might I be lieard, 

No long petition, speedy death, 

The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 

Chok. Many are the sayings of the wise, 
In ancient and in modern books enroU'd, 
Extolling patience as the truest fortitude; 
And to the bearing well of all calamities, 
All chances incident to man's frail life, 
Consolatories writ 

With studied argument, and much persuasion sought, 
Lenient of grief and anxious thought: 
But with the afflicted in his pangs their sound 
Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
Harsh and of dissonant mood from his complaint; 
Unless he feel within 
Some source of consolation from above. 
Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 
And fainting spirits uphold. 

God of our fathers, what is man ! 
That thou towards him with hand so various, 
Or may I say contrarious, 

Temper'st thy providence through his short course, 
Not ev'nly, as thou rul'st 

The angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, 
Irrational and brute. 

Nor do I name of men the common rout, 
That wand'ring loose about 
Grow up and perish, as the summer fly. 
Heads without name no more remember'd, 
But such as thou hast solemnly elected, 
With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd 
To some great work, thy glory, 
And people's safety, which in part they effect: 
Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft 
Amidst their height of noon, 
Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard 



^ 



-e 



f — ^ 

SAMSON AGON/STBS. 413 

Of highest favors past 

From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 

Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
To life obscured, which were a fair dismission. 
But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them high 
Unseemly falls in human eye, 
Too grievous for the trespass of omission; 
Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword 
Of heathen and profane, their carcases 
To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived 
Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 
And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude. 
If these they scape, perhaps in poverty 
With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, 
Painful diseases and deform'd, 
In crude ^ old age : 

Though not disordinate, yet causeless suff' ring 
The punishment of dissolute days: in fine, 
Just or unjust, alike seem miserable. 
For oft alike both come to evil end. 

So deal not with this once thy glorious champion, 
The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 
What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already! 
Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
His labors, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 

But who is this? what thing of sea or land? 
Female of sex it seems. 
That so bedeck'd, ornate and gay, 
Comes this way sailing 
Like a stately ship 
Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles 
Of Javan- or Gadire,^ 
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, 
Sails fiU'd, and streamers waving, 

1 Premature. 2 Greece. s Cadiz. 

^- . - . (^ 



^ — -^ 

414 SAJfSON AGON/STBS. 

Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
An amber scent of odorous perfume 
Her harbinger, a damsel train behind; 
Some rich Philistian matron she may seem, 
And now, at nearer view, no other certain 
Than Dalila, thy wife. 

Sams. My wife ! my traitress: let her not come near me. 

Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee fix'd, 
About t' have spoke, but now, with head declined. 
Like a fair flow'r surcharged with dew, she weeps. 
And words address'd seem into tears dissolved, 
Wettine the borders of her silken veil : 
But now again she makes address to speak. 

Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
Which to have merited without excuse, 
I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears 
May expiate, though the fact more evil drew 
In the perverse event than I foresaw, 
My penance hath not slacken'd. though my pardon 
No way assured: but conjugal affection. 
Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, 
Hath led me on, desirous to behold 
Once more thy face, and know of thy estate, 
If aught in my ability may serve 
To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease 
Thy mind with what amends is in my power. 
Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
My rash, but more unfortunate, misdeed. 

Sams. Out, out, hyaena! these are thy wonted arts 
And arts of every woman false like thee, 
To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray. 
Then, as repentant, to submit, beseech, 
And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, 
Confess, and promise wonders in her change. 
Not truly penitent, but chief to try 

4 -^ 



n 



a 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 415 

Her husband, how far urged his patience bears, 
His virtue or weakness which way to assail ; 
Then with more cautious and instructed skill 
Again transgresses, and again submits; 
That wisest and best men full oft beguiled, 
With goodness principled not to reject 
The penitent, but ever to forgive. 
Are drawn to wear out miserable days. 
Entangled with a pois'nous bosom snake. 
If not by quick destruction soon cut off, 
As I by thee, to ages an example. 

Dal. Yet hear me, Samson; not that I endeavor 
To lessen or extenuate my offence. 
But that, on th' other side if it be weigh'd 
By itself, with aggravations not surcharged. 
Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 
I may, if possible, thy pardon find 
The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. 
First granting, as I do, it was a weakness 
In me, but incident to all our sex. 
Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 
Of secrets, then with like infirmity 
To publish them, both common female faults : 
Was it not weakness also to make known 
For importunity, that is, for nought. 
Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 
To what I did thou show'dst me first the way. 
But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not ; 
Nor should'st thou have trusted that to woman's frailty. 
Ere I to thee' thou to thyself was cruel. 
Let weakness then with weakness come to parle, 
So near related, or the same of kind. 
Thine forgive mine ; that men may censure thine 
The gentler, if severely thou exact not 
More strength from me than, in thyself was found. 
And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 

"^ -^ 



^ -^ 

416 SAMSOiV AGONISTES. 

The jealousy of love, powerful of sway 

In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee, 

Caused what I did ? I saw thee mutable 

Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thou would'st leave me 

As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 

How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : 

No better way I saw than by importuning 

To learn thy secrets, get into my power 

Thy key of strength and safety. Thou wilt say, 

Why then reveal'd ? I was assured by those 

Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd 

Against thee but safe custody and hold : 

That made for me ; I knew that liberty 

Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, 

While I at home sat full of cares and fears, 

Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed : 

Here I should still enjoy thee day and night. 

Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines', 

Whole to myself, unhazardcd abroad, 

Fearless at home of partners in my love. 

These reasons in love's law have past for good, 

Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps ; 

And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much woe. 

Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd. 

Be not unlike all others, not austere 

As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 

If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, 

In uncompassionate anger do not so. 

Sams. How cunningly the sorceress displays 
Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine ! 
That malice not repentance brought thee hither. 
By this appears : I gave, thou say'st, th' example, 
I led the way; bitter reproach, but true ; 
I to myself was false ere thou to me ; 
Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 
Take to thy wicked deed ; which when thou seest 

^ ^ 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 417 

Impartial, self-severe, inexorable. 

Thou wilt renounce thy seeking-, and much rather 

Confess it feign'd ; weakness is thy excuse, 

And I believe it, weakness to resist 

Philistian gold ; if weakness may excuse, 

What murderer, what traitor, parricide. 

Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it ? 

All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore 

With God or man will gain thee no remission. 

But love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage 

To satisfy thy lust. Love seeks to have love : 

My love how could'st thou hope, who took'st the way 

To raise in me inexpiable hate, 

Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd ? 

In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame. 

Or by evasions thy crime uncoverest more. 

Dal, Since thou determin'st weakness for no plea 
In man or woman, through to thy own condemning, 
Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, 
What sieges girt me round, ere I consented, 
Which might have awed the best resolved of men, 
The constantest, to have yielded without blame. 
It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st. 
That wrought with me. Thou know'st tlie magistrates 
And princes of my country came in person,^ 
Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urg,ed, 
Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 
And of religion, press'd how just it was. 
How honorable, how glorious, to entrap 
A common enemy, who has destroy'd 
Such numbers of our nation : and the priest 
Was not behind, but ever at my ear. 
Preaching how meritorious with the gods 
It would be to ensnare an irreligious 

1 Judges xvi. 5. 
27 

0^ ^ 



41 8 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Dishonorer of Dagon. What had I 

T' oppose against such powerful arguments ? 

Only my love of thee held long debate, 

And combated in silence all these reasons 

With hard contest; at length that grounded maxim, 

So rife and celebrated in the mouths 

Of wisest men, that to the public good 

Private respects must yield with grave authority, 

Took full possession of me and prevail'd ; 

Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining. 

Sams. I thought where all thy circling wiles would end; 
In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy. 
But had thy love, still odiously pretended. 
Been, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee 
Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 
I, before all the daughters of my tribe 
And of my nation, chose thee from among 
My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knew'st, 
Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, 
Not out of levity, but over-power'd 
By thy request, who could deny thee nothing ; 
Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband. 
Then, as since then, thy countr3''s foe profess'd ? 
Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 
Parents and country ; nor was I their subject, 
Nor under their protection, but my own, 
Thou mine, not theirs. If aught against my life 
Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, 
Against the law of nature, law of nations, 
No more thy country, but an impious crew 
Of men, conspiring to uphold their state 
By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends 
For which our country is a name so dear ; 
Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal moved thee; 
To please thy gods thou didst it ; gods unable 

%_ ^ ^ 



"^ \ . ^ -^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 419 

To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes 

But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction 

Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; 

Less therefore to be pleased, obey'd or fear'd. 

These false pretexts and varnish'd colors failing, 

Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear? 
Dal. In argurnent with men a woman ever 

Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause. 

Sams. For want of words, no doubt, or lack of breath, 

Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 

Dal. I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 

In what I thought would have succeeded best. 

Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson, 

Afford me place to show what recompense 

Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone, 

Misguided ; only what remains past cure 

Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 

To afflict thyself in vain. Though sight be lost 

Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd 

Where other senses want not their delights 

At home in leisure and domestic ease. 

Exempt from many a care and chance to which 

Eyesight exposes daily men abroad. 

I to the lords will intercede, not doubting 

Their favorable ear, that I may fetch thee 

From forth this loathsome prison-house, to abide 

With me, where my redoubled love and care 

With nursing diligence, to me glad office, 

May ever tend about thee to old age. 

With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied. 

That what by me thou hast lost thou least shalt miss. 

Sams. No, no ; of my condition take no care ; 
It fits not; thou and I long since are twain; 
Nor think me so unwary or accurst, 
To bring my feet again into the snare 
Where once I have been caught: I know thy trains 

"^ 4> 



420 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Though dearly to my cost; thy gins, and toils, 

Thy fair enchanted cup and warbling charms 

No more on me have power, their force is null'd; 

So much of adder's wisdom I have learnt 

To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 

If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men 

Loved, honor'd, fear'd me, thou alone could'st hate me 

Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me; 

How would'st thou use me now, blind, and thereby 

Deceivable, in most things as a child 

Helpless, thence easily contemn'd and scorn'd, 

And last neglected? how would'st thou insult, 

When I must live uxorious to thy will 

In perfect thraldom, how again betray me, 

Bearing my words and doings to the lords 

To gloss upon, and censuring, frown or smile? 

This gaol I count the house of liberty 

To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 

Dal. Let me approach at least and touch thy hand. 

Sams. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake 
My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. 
At distance I forgive thee ; go with that, 
Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works 
It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
Among illustrious women, faithful wives : 
Cherish thy hasten'd widowhood with the gold 
Of matrimonial treason : so farewell. 

Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf 
To prayers than winds and seas, yet winds to seas 
Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore : 
Thy anger unappeasable still rages, 
Eternal tempest never to be calm'd. 
Why do I humble thus myself, and, suing 
For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate? 
Bid go with evil omen and the brand 
Of infamy upon my nam-e denounced? 



^ ' (b 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 421 

To mix with thy concernments I desist 

Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my 

Fame if not double-faced is double-mouth'd, 

And with contrary blasts proclaims most deeds; 

On both his wings, one black, the other white, 

Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight. 

My name perhaps among the circumcised, 

In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, 

To all posterity may stand defamed, 

With malediction mention'd, and the blot. 

Of falsehood most unconjugal traduced. 

But in my country where I most desire, 

In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath, 

I shall be named among the famousest 

Of women, sung at solemn festivals, 

Living and dead recorded, who to save 

Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose 

Above the faith of wedlock-bands; my tomb 

With odors visited and annual flowers ; 

Not less renown'd than in Mount Ephraim 

Jael, who with inhospitable guide 

Smote Sisera sleeping through the temples nail'd.^ 

Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 

The public marks of honor and reward 

Conferr'd upon me, for the piety 

Which to my country I was judged to have shown. 

At this who ever envies or repines, 

I leave him to his lot, and like my own. 

Chor. She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting 
Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd. 

S.A.MS. So let her go : God sent her to debase me. 
And aggravate my folly, who committed 
To such a viper His most sacred trust 
Of secrecy, my safety, and my life. 



1 Judges V. 



1 



"^ 



C7 



^ 



422 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, 
After offence returning, to regain 
Love once possess'd, nor can be easily 
Repulsed, without much inward passion felt 
And secret sting of amorous remorse. 

Sams. Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end; 
Not wedlock-treachery endang'ring life 

Chor. It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, 
Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, 
That woman's love can win or long inherit; 
But what it is, hard is to say, 
Harder to hit, 

Which way soever men refer it, 
Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
Or seven, though one should musing sit. 

If any of these or all, the Timnian bride 
Had not so soon preferr'd 
Thy paranymph* worthless to thee compared, 
Successor in thy bed, 
Nor both so loosely disallied 
Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherously 
Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
Is it for that such outward ornament 
Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts 
Were left for haste unfinish'd, judgment scant. 
Capacity not raised to apprehend 
Or value what is best 
In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong? 
Or was too much of self-love mix'd, 
Of constancy no root infix'd, 
That either they love nothing, or not long? 

What'er it be to wisest men and best 
Seeming at first all heav'nly under virgin veil, 
Soft, modest, meek, demure, 



1 Bridegroom 's-man. Judges xiv. 20. 



% 



^ 



SAJISO.V AGONISTES. 423 

Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn 

Intestine, far within defensive arms 

A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 

Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms 

Draws him awry enslaved 

With dotage, and his sense depraved 

To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. 

What pilot so expert but needs must wreck, 

Imbark'd with such a steers-mate at the helm? 

Favor'd of heav'n who finds 
One virtuous, rarely found, 
That in domestic good combines : 
Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth ; 
But virtue, which breaks through all opposition J 
And all temptation can remove, 

Most shines and most is acceptable above. ' 

Therefore God's universal law 
Gave to the man despotic power 
Over his female in due awe. 
Nor from that right to part an hour, 
Smile she or lour : 
So shall he least confusion draw 
On his whole life, not sway'd 
By female usurpation, or dismay 'd. 
But had we best retire? I see a storm. 
Sams. Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain. 
Chor. But this another kind of tempest brings. 
Sams. Be less abstruse, my riddling days are past. 
Chor. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
The bait of honied words ; a rougher tongue 
Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride, 
The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud. 
Comes he in peace ? what wind hath blown him hither 
I less conjecture than when first I saw 
The sumptuous Dalila floating this way : 



^- 



a- 



^ 



424 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 

Sams. Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. 

Chor. His fraught^ we soon shall know, he now arrives. 

Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance, 
As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been. 
Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath, 
Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd 
As Og, or Anak, and the Emims old 
That Kiriathaim^ held; thou know'st me now 
If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd, 
Incredible to me, in this displeased, 
That I was never present on the place 
Of those encounters, where we might have tried 
Each other's force in camp or listed field: 
And now am come to see of whom such noise 
Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey. 
If thy appearance answer loud report. 

Sams. The way to know were not to see but taste. 

Har. Dost thou already single me ? I thought 
Gyves ^ and the mill had tamed thee. O that fortune 
Had brought me to the field where thou art famed 
To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw ! 
I should have forced thee soon with other arms, 
Or left thy carcass where the ass lay thrown ; 
So had the glory of prowess been recover'd 
To Palestine, won by a Philistine 
From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou bear'st 
The highest name for valiant acts : that honor 
Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, 
I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. 

Sams. Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do 
What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand. 

Har. To combat with a blind man I disdain, 

J Freight; his purpose, with which he is freighted. ^ Qen. xiv._5. 3 Fetters. 



f ^ -^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 425 

And thou hast need much washing to be touch'd. 
Sams. Such usage as your honorable lords 

Afford me assassinated and betray 'd, 

Who durst not with their whole united powers 

In fight withstand me single and unarm'd, 

Nor in the house with chamber ambushes 

Close-banded durst attack me, no not sleeping, 

Till they had hired a woman with their gold. 

Breaking her marriage faith, to circumvent me. 

Therefore without feign'd shifts let be assign'd 

Some narrow place inclosed, where sight may give thee, 

Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; 
Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
And brigandine of brass,^ thy broad habergeon 
Vant-brass and greves, and gauntlets, add thy spear, 
A weaver's beam, and seven-times folded shield, 
I only with an oaken staff will meet thee, 
And raise such outcries on thy clatter'd iron, 
Which long shall not withhold me from thy head, 
That in a little time, while breath remains thee, 
Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath to boast 
Again in safety what thou would'st have done 
To Samson, but shall never see Gath more. 

Har. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms. 
Which greatest heroes have in battle worn. 
Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
And black enchantment, some magician's art, 
Arm'd thee, or charm'd thee strong, which thou from hcav'n 
Feign'dst at thy birth was giv'n thee in thy hair. 
Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
Were bristles ranged like those that ridge the back 
Of chafed wild boars or ruffled porcupines. 

Sams. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts ; 



1 Coat of mail, armor for the neck and shoulders. Vant-brace is armor for the arms. 
Greaves covered the legs. 

^ ' ^ 



^ ^ -^ 

42 J SAMSON AGONISTES. 

My trust is in tlje living God, who gave me 
At my nativity this strength, diffused 
No less through all my sinews, joints, and bones, 
Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn, 
The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, 
Go to his temple, invocate his aid 
With solemnest devotion spread before him 
How highly it concerns his glory now 
To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells, 
Which I to be the power of Israel's God 
Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test, 
Off'ring to combat thee his champion bold. 
With th' utmost of his godhead seconded : 
Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow 
Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. 
Har. Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be, 
Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 

Quite from his people, and deliver'd up 

Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 

To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 

Into the common prison, there to grind 

Among the slaves and asses, thy comrades, 

As good for nothing else, no better service 

With those thy boist'rous locks, no worthy match 

For valor to assail, nor by the sword 

Of noble warrior, so to stain his honor, 

F)Ut by the barber's razor best subdued. 

Sams. All these indignities, for such they are, 

From thine, these evils I deserve and more. 

Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 

Justly, yet despair not of His final pardon 

Whose ear is ever open, and His eye 

Gracious to readmit the suppliant; 

In confidence whereof I once again 

Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight. 



^ 



4^ 



s- 



^ 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 



427 



By combat to decide whose God is God, 
Thine, or whom I with Israel's sons adore. 

Har. Fair honor that thou dost thy God, in trusting 
He will accept thee to defend his cause, 
A murderer, a revolter, and a robber. [these ? 

Sams. Tongue-doughty giant, how dost thou prove me 

Har. Is not thy nation subject to our lords ? 
Their magistrates confess'd it, when they took thee 
As a league-breaker, and deliver'd bound 
Into our hands; for hadst thou not committed 
Notorious murder on those thirty men 
At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 
Then like a robber stripp'dst them of their robes? 
The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league, 
Went up with armed powers thee only seeking, 
To others did no violence nor spoil. 

Sams. Among the daughters of the Philistines 
I chose a wife, which argued me no foe ; 
And in your city held my nuptial feast : 
But your ill meaning politician lords. 
Under pretence of bridal friends and guests, 
Appointed to await me thirty spies, 
Who threat'ning cruel death constrain'd the bride 
To wring from me and tell to them my secret. 
That solved the riddle which I had proposed. 
When I perceived all set on enmity. 
As on my enemies, w:herever chanced, 
I used hostility, and took their spoil 
To pay my underminers in their coin. 
My nation was subjected to your lords. 
It was the force of conquest; force with force 
Is well ejected when the conquer'd can. 
But I a private person, whom my country 
As a league-breaker gave up bound, presumed 
Single rebellion, and did hostile acts. 
I was no private, but a person raised 



4 



^ : ^ 

428 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

With strength sufficient and command from heav'n 

To free my country ; if their servile minds 

Me their deHverer sent would not receive, 

But to their masters gave me up for nought, 

Th' unworthier they; whence to this day they serve. 

I was to do my part from heav'n assign'd. 

And had perform'd it, if my known offence 

Had not disabled me, not all your force : 

These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant, 

Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts, 

Who now defies thee thrice to single fight. 

As a petty enterprise of small enforce. 

Har. With thee a man condemn'd, a slave enroU'd, 
Due by the law to capital punishment ? 
To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 

Sams. Cam'st thou for this, vain boaster, to survey me, 
To descant on my strength, and give the verdict ? 
Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd ; 
But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 

Har. O Baal-zebub !^ can my ears unused 
Hear these dishonors, and not render death ? 

Sams. No man withholds thee, nothing from thy hand 
Fear I incurable ; bring up thy van, 
My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free. 

Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits. 

Sams. Go, baffled coward, lest I run upon thee, 
Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast, 
And with one buffet lay thy structure low. 
Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 
To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides. 

Har. By Astaroth^ ere long thou shalt lament 
These braveries in irons leaden on thee. 

Chor. His giantship is gone somewhat crestfall'n. 



1 a deity of the Philistines ; the god of flies. 

2 Another deity of the Philistines and Sidonians. The "Venus" of the East, or, it is 
thought, the Moon. 



^ Q, 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 429 

Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 
And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 

Sams. I dread him not, nor all his giant brood, 
Though fame divulge him father of five sons, 
All of gigantic size, Goliah chief 

Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 
And with malicious counsel stir them up 
Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. 

Sams. He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight 
Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
Whether he durst accept the offer or not. 
And that he durst not plain enough appear'd. 
Much more affliction than already felt 
They cannot well impose, nor I sustain ; 
If they intend advantage of my labors, 
The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 
With no small profit daily to my owners. 
But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence, 
The worst that he can give, to me the best. 
Yet so it may fall out, because their end 
Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine 
Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 
V Chor. Oh, how comely it is, and how reviving 

To the spirits of just men long oppress'd ! 
When God into the hands of their deliverer 
Puts invincible might 

To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor, 
The brute and boist'rous force of violent men 
Hardy and industrious to support 
Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 
The righteous, and all such as honor truth; 
He all their ammunition 
And feats of war defeats. 
With plain heroic magnitude of mind 
And celestial vigor arm'd, 

^ — -^ 



: -^ 

430 SAMSON AGONFSTES. 

Their armories and magazines contemns, 

Renders them useless, while 

With winged expedition, 

Swift as the lightning glance, he executes 

His errand on the wicked, who surprised 

Lose their defence distracted and amazed. 

But patience is more oft the exercise 
Of saints, the trial of their fortitude, 
Making them each his own deliverer, 
And victor over all 
That tyranny of fortune can inflict : 
Either of these is in thy lot, 
Samson, with might endued 
Above the sons of men ; but sight bereaved 
May chance to number thee with those 
Whom patience finally must crown. 

This idol's day hath been to thee no day of rest 
Laboring thy mind 

More than the working day thy hands. 
And yet perhaps more trouble is behind. 
For I descry this way 
Some other tending, in his hand 
A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, 
Comes on amain, speed in his look. 
By his habit I discern him now 
A public officer, and now at hand. 
His message will be short and voluble. 

Off. Hebrews, the pris'ner Samson here I seek. 

Chor. His manacles remark him, there he sits. 

Off. Samson, to thee our lords thus bid me say : 
This day to Dagon is a solemn feast. 
With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games ; 
Thy strength they know surpassing human rate 
And now some public proof thereof require 
To honor this great feast and great assembly ; 
Rise therefore with all speed and come along, 

'^ -^ 



a ^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 431 

Where I will see thee hearten'd and fresh clad 
T' appear as fits before th' illustrious lords. 

Sams. Thou know'st I am an Hebrew, therefore tell them 
Our law forbids at their religious rites 
My presence ; for that cause I cannot come. 

Off, This answer, be assured, will not content them, 

Sams, Have they not sword-players, and ev'ry sort 
Of gymnic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners, 
Jugglers, and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 
But they must pick me out, with shackles tired, 
And over-labor'd at their public mill, 
To make them sport with blind activity? 
Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels 
On my refusal to distress me more. 
Or make a game of my calamities ? 
Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come. 

Off. Regard thyself, this will offend them highly, 

Sams. Myself? my conscience and internal peace. 
Can they think me so broken, so debased 
With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
Will condescend to such absurd commands ? 
Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester, 
And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief 
To show them feats, and play before their god, 
The worst of all indignities, yet on me 
Join'd with extreme contempt? I will not come. 

Off. My message was imposed on me with speed. 
Brooks no delay. Is this thy resolution ? 

Sams. So take it with what speed thy message needs. 

Off. I am sorry what this stoutness will produce. 

Sams. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow indeed. 

Chor. Consider, Samson, matters now are strain'd 
Up to the height, whether to hold or break. 
He's gone, and who knows how he may report 
Thy words by adding fuel to the flame ? 
Expect another message more imperious, 

^ ^ ^ ^ 



^ -Qp 

432 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

More lordly thund'ring than thou well wilt bear. 

Sams. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
Of strength, again returning with my hair 
After my great transgression, so requite 
Favor renew'd, and add a greater sin 
By prostituting holy things to idols ; 
A Nazarite m place abominable 
Vaunting my strength in honor to their Dagon ? 
Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous, 
What act more execrably unclean, profane ? 
• Chor. Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Philistines 

Idolatrous, uncircumcised, unclean. 

Sams. Not in their idol-worship, but by labor 
Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
Of those who have me in their civil power. 

Chor. Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile not. 

Sams. Where outward force constrains, the sentence holds, 
But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, 
Not dragging? the Philistian lords command. 
Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, 
I do it freely, vent'ring to displease 
God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
Set God behind: which in His jealousy 
Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
Yet that He may dispense with me or thee 
Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
For some important cause, thou need'st not doubt. 

Chor. How thou wilt here come off surmounts my reach. 

Sams. Be of good courage, I begin to feel 
Some rousing motions in me, which dispose 
To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
I with this messenger will go along. 
Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonor 
Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. 
If there be aught of presage in the mind, 
This day will be remarkable in my life 

(^ , 



a Qd 

SAMSON AGONISTBS. 433 

By some great act, or of my days the last. 

Chor. In time thou hast resolved, the man returns. 

Off. Samson, this second message from our lords 
To thee I am bid say. Art thou our slave, 
Our captive, at the public mill our drudge, 
And dar'st thou at our sending and command 
Dispute thy coming ? come without delay; 
Or we shall find such engines to assail 
And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force. 
Though thou wert firmlier fasten'd than a rock. 

Sams. I could be well content to try their art. 
Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 
Yet knowing their advantages too many, 
Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
Like a wild beast, I am content to go. 
Master's commands come with a power resistless 
To such as owe them absolute subjection ; 
And for a life who will not change his purpose? 
So mutable are all the ways of men ! 
Yet this be sure in nothing to comply 
Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 

Off. I praise thy resolution : doff these links ; 
By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
To favor, and, perhaps, to set thee free. 

Sams. Brethren, farewell ; your company along 
I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
To see me girt with friends; and how the sight 
Of me as of a common enemy, 
So dreaded once, may how exasperate them 
I know not. Lords are lordliest in their wine; 
And the well feasted priest then soonest fired 
With zeal, if aught religion seem concern'd; 
No less the people on their holy-days 
Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable : 
Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
Nothing dishonorable, impure, unworthy 
28 

^ -& 



^ ^ 

434 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Our God, our law, my nation, or myself, 
The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 

Chor. Go. and the Holy One 
Of Israel be thy guide 

To what may serve His glory best, and spread His name 
Great among the heathen round ; 
Send thee the angel of thy birtli, to stand 
Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field 
Rode up in flames after his message told 
Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
Of fire; that spirit that first rush'd on thee 
In the camp of Dan 
Be efficacious in thee now at need. 
For never was from heaven imparted 
Measure of strength so great to mortal seed, 
As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 
But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
With youthful steps? much livelier than ere while 
He seems ; supposing here to find his son, 
Or of him bringing to us some glad news ? 

Man. Peace with you, brethren! my inducement hither 
Was not at present here to find my son, 
By order of the lords new parted hence, 
To come and play before them at their feast, 
I heard all as I came, the city rings. 
And numbers thither flock ; I had no will, 
Lest I should see him forced to things unseemly. 
But that which moved my coming now was chiefly 
To give ye part with me what hope I have 
With good success to work his liberty. 

Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
With thee ; say, reverend Sire, we thirst to hear. 

Man. I have attempted one by one the lords 
Either at home or through the high street passing, 
With supplication prone and father's tears, 
To accept of ransom for my son their pris'ner. 

^ -4^ 



I 



a- 



^ 



^ 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 435 

Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh, 

Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; 

That part most reverenced Dagon and his priests : 

Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 

Private reward, for which both God and State 

They easily would set to sale ; a third 

More generous far and civil, who confess'd 

They had enough revenged, having reduced 

Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 

The rest was magnanimity to remit, 

If some convenient ransom were proposed. 

What noise or shout was that? it tore the sky. 
Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to behold 

Their once great dread, captive and blind before them, 

Or at some proof of strength before them shown. 

Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance 
May compass it, shall willingly be paid 
And number'd down : much rather I shall choose 
To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest. 
And he in that calamitous prison left. 
No, I am fix'd not to part hence without him. 
For his redemption all my patrimony, 
If need be, I am ready to forego 
And quit : not wanting him, I shall want nothing. 
Chor. Fathers are wonL to lay up for their sons, 
Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all : \ 

Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age. 
Thou in old age carest how to nurse thy son, 
Made older than thy age through eyesight lost. 
Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes. 
And view him sitting in the house, ennobled, 
With all those high exploits by him achieved. 
And on his shoulders waving down those locks. 
That of a nation arm'd the strength contain'd : 
And I persuade me God hath not permitted 
His strength again to grow up with his hair, 

= -^ 





^ , ^ 




V 


J 




V. 


7 




436 SAMSON AGONISTES. 










Garrison'd round about him like a camp 










Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 










To use him further yet in some great service, 










Not to sit idle, with so great a gift 










Useless, and thence ridiculous, about him. 










And since his strength with eyesight was not lost. 










God will restore him eyesight to his strength. 










Chor. Thy hopes are not ill founded nor seem vain 










Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon 










Conceived, agreeable to a father's love, 










In both which we, as next, participate. 










Man. I know your friendly minds, and — what noise ! 










Mercy of heav'n, what hideous noise was that? 










Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 










Chor. Noise call you it or universal groan. 










As if the whole inhabitation perish'd ! 










Blood, deathj and deathful deeds are in that noise, 










Ruin, destruction at the utmost point. 










Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise : 










Oh, it continues, they have slain my son. 










Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them, that outcry 










From slaughter of one foe could not ascend. 










Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be ; 










What shall we do, stay here, or run and see ? 










Chor. Best keep together here, lest running thither 










We unawares run into danger's mouth. 










This evil on the Philistines is fall'n ; 










From whom could else a general cry be heard ? 










The sufferers then will scarce molest us here. 










From other hands we need not much to fear. 










What if his eyesight, for to Israel's God 










Nothing is hard, by miracle restored, 










He now be dealing dole among his foes. 






• 




And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way ? 

M.\n. That were a joy presumptuous to be thought. 
Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 






C 


^ , 




^ C 


:^ 




V ' ' ^ 





^- 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 

For His people of old ; what hinders now ? 

Man. He can, I know, but doubt to think He will ; 
Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. 
A little stay will bring some notice hither. 

Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner ; 
For evil news rides post, while good news baits. 
And to our wish I see one hither speeding, 
An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe. 

Mess. O whither shall I run, or which way fly 
The sight of this so horrid spectacle. 
Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold ? 
For dire imagination still pursues me. 
But providence or instinct of nature seems. 
Or reason though disturb'd, and scarce consulted, 
To have guided me aright, I know not how, 
To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these 
My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining. 
As at some distance from the place of horror, 
So in the sad event too much concern'd. 

Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee 
With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not ; 
No preface needs, thou seest we long to know. 

Mess. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 

Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 

Mess. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fall'n. 
All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'n. 

Man. Sad; but thou know'st to Israelites not saddest 
The desolation of a hostile city. 

Mess. Feed on that first, there may in grief be surfeit. 

Man. Relate by whom. 

Mess. By Samson. 

Man. That still lessens 
The sorrow and converts it nigh to joy. 

Mess. Ah ! Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 
To utter what will come at last too soon ; 



437 



^ 



c 


i\ . . r\ 




) 




V. 


J 




438 


SAMSOM AGONISTES. 

Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption 
Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep. 

Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. 

Mess. Take then the worst in brief, Samson is dead. 

Man. The worst indeed. O ! all my hopes defeated 
To free him hence ! but death, who sets all free, 
Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. 
What windy joy this day had I conceived 
Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 
Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring 
Nipt with the lagging rear of winter's frost ! 
Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first 
How died he ; death to life is crown or shame. 
All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he ? 
What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound ? 

Mess. Unwounded of his enemies he fell. 

Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how ? explain. 

Mess. By his own hands. 




1 




. 


Man. Self-violence? what cause 
Brought him so soon at variance with himself 
Among his foes ! 

Mess. Inevitable cause 
At once both to destroy and be destroy'd ; 
The edifice, where all were met to see him. 
Upon their heads and on his own he pull'd. 

Man. lastly over-strong against thyself! 
A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. 
More than enough we know ; but while things yet 
Are in confusion, give us, if thou can'st, 
Eye-witness of what first or last was done, 
Relation more particular and distinct. 

Mess. Occasions drew me early to this city, 
And as the gates I cnter'd with sun-rise, 
The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd 
Through each high-street. Little I had dispatch'd 
When all abroad was rumor'd, that this day 










Samson should be brought forth to show the people 






r 


^ 




r 


^ 




V ^ 





^ ■ Q p 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 439 

Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games; 

I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded 

Not to be absent at that spectacle. 

The building was a spacious theatre, 

Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high. 

With seats, where all the lords and each degree 

Of sort might sit in order to behold ; 

The other side was open, where the throng 

On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand; 

I among these aloof obscurely stood. 

The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice 

Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and wine, 

When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately 

Was Samson as a public servant brought, 

In their state livery clad ; before him pipes 

And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 

Both horse and foot, before him and behind 

Archers, and slingers, cataphracts,^ and spears. 

At sight of him the people with a shout 

Rifted the air, clamoring their God with praise. 

Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. 

He patient, but undaunted, where they led him. 

Came to the place, and what was set before him, 

Which without help of eye might be assay'd. 

To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd 

All with incredible stupendous force, 

None daring to appear antagonist. 

At length for intermission' sake they led him 

Between the pillars ; he his guide requested, 

For so from such as nearer stood we heard, 

As over-tired to let him lean awhile 

With both his arms on those two massy pillars, 

That to the arched roof gave main support 

He unsuspicious led him ; which when Samson 

1 Men and horses in armor. 

^ ^ 



<fr- 



l' 



440 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Felt in his arms, with head awhile inclined, 

And eyes fast fixt he stood, as one who pray'd, 

Or some great matter in his mind revolved: 

At last with head erect thus cried aloud, 

Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed 

I have perform'd as reason was, obeying, 

Not without wonder or delight beheld : 

Now of my own accord such other trial 

I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater; 

As with amaze shall strike all who behold. 

This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd, 

As with the force of winds and waters pent 

When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars 

With horrible convulsion to and fro 

He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 

The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder 

Upon the heads of all who sat beneath. 

Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 

Their choice nobility and flower, not only 

Of this, but each Philistian city round, 

Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 

Samson, with these inmixt, inevitably 

PuU'd down the same destruction on himself; 

The vulgar only 'scaped who stood without. 

Chor. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious ! 
Living or dying thou hast fulfiU'd 
The work for which thou wast foretold 
To Israel, and now liest victorious 
Among thy slain, self-kill'd 
Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 
Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd 
Thee with thy slaughter'd foes in number more 
Than all thy life had slain before. 

I. Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and sublime, 
Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine. 
And fat regorged of bulls and goats, 

4- ' -^ 



^ a? 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 441 

Chanting their idol, and preferring 

Before our living Droad who dwells 

In Silo^ His bright sanctuary : 

Among them He a spirit of frenzy sent. 

Who hurt their minds, 

And urged them on with mad desire 

To call in haste for their destroyer ; 

They, only set on sport and play, 

Unweetingly importuned 

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 

So fond are mortal men 

Fall'n into wrath divine, 

As their own ruin on themselves to invite, 

Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, 

And with blindness internal struck. 

2. Semichor. But he, though blind of sight. 
Despised and thought extinguish'd quite, 
With inward eyes illuminated, 
His fiery virtue roused 
From under ashes into sudden flame. 
And as an ev'ning dragon came, 
Assailant on the perched roosts 
And nests in order ranged 
Of tame villatic fowl f but as an eagle 
His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
So virtue giv'n for lost, 
Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd, 
Like that self-begotten bird 
In the Arabian woods imbost, 
That no second knows nor third, 
And lay ere while a holocaust, 
From out her ashy womb now teem'd, 
Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 

1 Where the Ark then was. 

2 See Plin. lib. xxiii. sect. 17. "Villaticas alites." — Richardson. 

^ ^ 



^^- ' -^ 

442 SAMSON AGONISTES. 

When most unactivc deem'd, 

And though her body die, her fame survives 

A secular bird ages of Hves/ 

Man. Come, come, no time for lamentation now, 
Nor much more cause: Samson hath quit himself 
Like Samson, and heroically hath finished 
A life heroic, on his enemies 

Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning, 
And lamentation to the son of Caphtor^ 
Through all Philistian bounds. To Israel 
Honor hath left and freedom, let but them 
Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ; 
To himself and father's house eternal fame; 
And, which is best and happiest yet, all this 
With God not parted from him, as was fear'd, 
But favoring and assisting to the end. 
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt. 
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, 
And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 
Let us go find the body where it lies 
Soak'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream 
With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off 
The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, 
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay,) 
Will send for all my kindred, all my fi-iends, 
To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 
With silent obsequy and funeral train 
Home to his father's house: there will I build him 
A monument, and plant it round with shade 
Of laurel ever green, and branching palm, 

1 The Phoenix; supposed to make a funeral pile of sweet-scented woods, and fan it to a 
flame with her wings ; from her ashes rose another phoenix, sole of its kind always. The 
phoenix was considered an emblem of the resurrection. 

- The Philistines are called the sons ofCaphtor because they came originally from the 
island ol Caphtor, or Crete. 



^ 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 443 

With all his trophies hung, and acts inroll'd 
In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. 
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 
And from his memory inflame their breasts 
To matchless valor and adventures high : 
The virgins also shall on feastful days 
Visit his tomb with flowers, only bewailing 
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, 
From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 

Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt. 
What th' unsearchable dispose 
Of Highest Wisdom brings about. 
And ever best found in the close 
Oft He seems to hide His face, 
But unexpectedly returns, 
And to His faithful champion hath in place 
Bore witness gloriously ; whence Gaza mourns 
And all that band them to resist 
His uncontrollable intent: 
His servants He, with new acquist 
Of true experience from this great event, 
With peace and consolation hath dismiss'd. 
And calm of mind, all passion spent 



^ ^ 



^ 



■^ 



Early Poems. 



f-X^,)/^^ 



Anno ^tatis 17, 

ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT/ DYING OF A 

COUGH. 

1625. 
I. 

O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
Summer's chief honor, if thou hadst out-lasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; 
For he being amorous on that lovely dye 

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
But kill'd alas ! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. 

II. 

For since grim Aquilo" his charioteer 
By boisterous rape th' Athenian damsel^ got, 
He thought it touch 'd his deity full near, 
If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot 

Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, 
Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was held. 



1 The Poet's infant niece, daughter of his sister, Mrs. Philips. 

2 Boreas, or the North Wind. 3 Orithyia — OViD. Metam, 6. 

445 



^ 



^ 



446 ' EARLY POEMS. 

III. 

So mounting up in icy-pearled car, 
Through middle empire of the freezing air 
He wander'd long, till thee he ^py'd from far; 
There ended was his quest, there ceased his care. 
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair, 
But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 
Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding place. 

IV. 

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate ; 
For so Apollo, with unwecting hand, 
Whilome did slay his dearly-loved mate. 
Young Hyacinth,^ born on Eurotas' strand 
Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land ; 

But then transform'd him to a purple flower : 
Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power ! 

V. 

Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead. 
Or thit thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, 
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb ; 
Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom ? 
Oh no! for something in thy face did shine 
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. 

VI, 

Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest, 
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear,) 
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest, 
Whether above that high first-moving sphere. 
Or in th' Elysian fields, (if such there were,) 

Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight. 
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight. 

lA Prince of Sparta, said to have bsen accidentally slain by Apollo. Festivals to his 
honor were held annually by the Greeks at Amycloe, a city of Laconia. 

4- ^- & 



f ^ 

EARLY POEMS. 447 

VII. 

Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof 
Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst fall ; 
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof 
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ? 
Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall 

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou some Goddess fled 
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head ? 

VIII. 

Or wert thou that just Maid, who once before 

Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth, 

And camest again to visit us once more ? 

Or wert thou that sweet- smiling youth ? 

Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth ? 

Or any other of that heavenly brood 
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good ? 

IX. 

Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, 
Who having clad thyself in human weed, 
To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
And after short abode fly back with speed. 
As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed, 

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
To scorn the sordid world and unto heaven aspire ? 

X. 

But oh, why didst thou not stay here below 
To bless us with thy heaven- loved innocence. 
To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe, 
To turn swift-rushing black Perdition hence, 
Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence, 

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart ? 
But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. 

D ' : '- ^^ 



^ : -^ 

448 EARLY POEMS. 

XI. 

Then thou, the Mother of so sweet a Child, 
Her false imagined loss cease to lament, 
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render Him with patience what He lent ; 

This if thou do, He will an offspring give 
That till the world's last end shall make thy name to live. 



Anno ^Etatis 19. 

AT A VACATION EXERCISE IN THE COLLEGE. 

1627. 

PART LATIN, PART ENGLISH. 
The Latin speeches ended, the English thus began :— 

Hail, native Language, that by sinews weak 

Didst move my first endeavoring tongue to speak, 

And madest imperfect words with childish trips. 

Half unpronounced, slide through my infant lips, 

Driving dumb silence from the portal door, 

Where he had mutely sat two years before : 

Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask, 

That now I use thee in my latter task : 

Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee, 

I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : 

Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first, 

Believe me I have thither pack'd the worst ; 

And, if it happen as I did forccasty* 

The daintiest dishes shall be served up last. 

I pray thee then deny me not thy aid 

For this same small neglect that I have made : 

But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, 

And from thy wardrobe bring thy chicfest treasure, 

4_ — _ ^ 



s ^ 

EARLY POEMS. 449 

Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight^ 

Which takes our late fantastics with delight, 

But cull those richest robes and gay'st attire 

Which deepest spirits, and choicest wits desire : 

I have some naked thoughts that rove about, 

And loudly knock to have their passage out; 

And weary of their place do only stay 

Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ; 

That so they may without suspect or fears 

Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears ; 

Yet I had rather, if I were to choose, 

Thy service in some graver subject use. 

Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 

Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound : 

Such where the deep transported mind may soar 

Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door 

Look in, and see each blissful Deity 

How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, 

Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings 

To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 

Immortal nectar to her kingly sire : 

Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, 

And misty regions of wide air next under. 

And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, 

May tell at length \\ovj green-eyed Neptune raves. 

In Heaven's defiance mustering all his waves ; 

Then sing of secret things that came to pass 

When beldam Nature in her cradle was ; 

And last of kings and queens and heroes old, 

Such as the wise Demodocus ^ once told, 

In solemn songs at King Alcinous' feast, 

1 Milton alludes to the affected phraseology of the period, called Euphuism, which origi- 
nated in Lily's Euphuei and his England, a book intended to refine the English language. 
Scott has given us a lively picture of this affected jargon in his Sir Piercie Shafton in the 
Monastery; see p. 449. 

2 A Greek bard. See Odyssey, Book VIII. 

29 



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4 



-^ 

450 EARLY POEMS. 

While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest, 

Are held with his melodious harmony, 

In willing chains and sweet captivity. 

But fie, my wandering Muse, how thou dost stray! 

Expectance calls thee now another way, 

Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent 

To keep in compass of thy predicament : 

Then quick about thy purposed business come, 

That to the next I may resign my room. 

Then Ens^ is represented as father of the Predicaments 2 his ten sons, whereof the eldest 
stood for Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speaking, explains : — 

Good luck befriend thee, Son ; for at thy birth 

The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth ; 

Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 

Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie. 

And sweetly singing round about thy bed 

Strow all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 

She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still 

From eyes of mortals walk invisible : 

Yet there is something that doth force my fear, 

For once it was my dismal hap to hear 

A sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age. 

That far events full wisely could presage, 

And in time's long and dark prospective glass 

Foresaw what future days should bring to pass ; 

Your son, said she (nor can you it prevent), 

Shall subject be to many an Accident.^ 

O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, 

1 Ens, a term in metaptiysics signifying entity, being existence. In this mask it is per- 
sonified, as are also Substance, Quantity, Quality, and relation. "This affectation," says 
Warton, "will appear more excusable in Milton, if we recollect that everything in the Masks 
of this age appeared in a bodily shape." 

2 A predicament is a category in logic ; that is, a series of all the predicates or attributes 
contained under a genus. The logic of Aristotle comprised ten categories : Substance, 
Quantity. Quality, Relation, Action, Passion, Time, Place, Situation and Habit. These 
were personified in the Mask. 

3 A pun on the logical accidens. — Warton. 

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EARLY POEMS, 451 

Yet every one shall make him underling, 

And those that cannot live from him asunder 

Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under, 

In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, 

Yet being above them, he shall be below them ; 

From others he shall stand in need of nothing, 

Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. 

To find a foe it shall not be his hap, 

And peace shall lull him in her flowery lap ; 

Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 

Devouring war shall never cease to roar ; 

Yea it shall be his natural property 

To harbor those that are at enmity. 

What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 

Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot. 

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose ; then Relation was called by his name. 

Rivers, arise ; whether thou be the son 

Of utmost Tweed, or Ouse, or gulphy Don, 

Or Trent, who like some earth-born giant spreads 

His thirty arms^ along the indented meads. 

Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,^ 

Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death,^ 

Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 

Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee, 

Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythian's name,'* 

Or Medway smooth, or royal tower'd Thame. 

The rest was prose. 

1 It is said that there were thirty sorts of fish in this river, and thirty religious houses on 
its banks. 

2 At Mickleham, near Dorking, the River Mole, in hot summers, sinks through its sands, 
and finds a subterranean channel. In winter, and when heavy rains fall, it keeps its usual 
bed. 

3 Sabrina, See Comus, verse 827. 

■* Humber was a Scythian king, said to have been drowned^ in this river by Locrine , three 
hundred years before the Romans landed in Britain. 



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s- ^ 



Odes. 



ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. 

1629. 
I. 

This is the month, and this the happy morn, 
Wherein the Son of heaven's eternal king, 
Of wedded Maid, and Virj^^in Mother born, 
Our great redemption from above did bring ; 
For so the holy sages ^ once did sing, 

That He our deadly forfeit should release, 
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace. 

II. 
That glorious form, that light unsufferable, 
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty, 
Wherewith He wont at heaven's high council table 
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
He laid aside; and here with us to be, 

Forsook the courts of everlasting day. 
And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. 

III. 
Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
Afford a present to the Infant God? 
Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 
To welcome Him to this His new abode, 
Now while the heaven by the sun's team untrod. 

Hath took no print of the approaching light, 
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright ? 

1 The prophets. • , 

452 

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EARLY POEMS, 453 

IV. 

See how from far upon the eastern road 
The star-led wizards ^ haste with odors sweet : 
O run prevent them with thy humble ode, 
And lay it lowly at His blessed feet ; 
Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet, 

And join thy voice unto the Angel quire, 
From out His secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. 



THE HYMN. 
I. 

It was the winter wild, 
While the heaven-born child 

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; 
Nature in awe to Him 
Had dofft her gaudy trim, 

With her great Master so to sympathize : 
It was no season then for her 
To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 

II. 

Only with speeches fair 
She woos the gentle air 

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow, 
And on her naked shame, 
Pollute with sinful blame, 

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw, 
Confounded that her Maker's eyes 
Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 

1 The Magi. The word "wizard" meant simply wise men and is used in Sir John 
Cheke's translation of St. Matthew's Gospel. 



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454 EARLY POEMS, 

III. 
But He her fears to cease, 
Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; 

She, crown'd with olives green, came softly sliding 
Down through the turning sphere 
His ready harbinger, 

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 
And waving wide her myrtle wand, 
She strikes auniversal peace through sea and land. 

IV. 

Nor war, or battle's sound 
Was heard the world around : 

The idle spear and shield were high up hung. 
The hooked chariot stood 
Unstain'd with hostile blood. 

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng, 
And kings sat still with awful eye, 
As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by. 

v. 

But peaceful was the night 
Wherein the Prince of light 

His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
The winds with wonder whist ^ 
Smoothly the waters kist, 

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, 
Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 
While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. 

VI. 

The stars with deep amaze 
Stand fix'd in steadfast gaze. 

Bending one way their precious influence, 
And will not take their flight, 

1 Silent, or hushed. 

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EARLY POEMS. 455 

For all the morning light, 

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence ; 
But in their glimmering orbs did glow, 
Until their Lord Himself bespake, and bid them go. 

VII. 

And though the shady gloom 
Had given day her room, 

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 
And hid his head for shame, 
As his inferior flame 

The new enlighten'd world no more should need ; 
He saw a greater sun appear 
Than his bright throne, or burning axletree could bear. 

viir. 
The shepherds on the lawn, 
Or e'er the point of dawn. 

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row ; 
Full little thought they then 
That the mighty Pan^ 

Was kindly come to live with them below ; 
Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, 
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 






V 




IX. 

When such music sweet 
Their hearts and ears did greet. 

As never was by mortal finger strook. 
Divinely-warbled voice 
Answering the stringed noise. 

As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 










The air such pleasure loth to lose. 








With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. 




"> 


1 God of shepherds. 


n 


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r 


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456 



EARLY POEMS. 



Nature that heard such sound, 
Beneath the hollow round 

Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling, 
Now was almost won 
To think her part was done. 

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling; 
She knew such harmony alone 
Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. 

XI. 

At last surrounds their sight, 
A globe of circular light, 

That with long beams the shamefaced night array'd ; 
The helmed Cherubim, 
And sworded Seraphim, 

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd. 
Harping in loud and solemn quire, 
With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir. 

XII. 

Such music (as 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 

But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
While the Creator great 
His constellations set, 

And the well-balanced world on hinges hung. 
And cast the dark foundations deep, 
And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep. 

XIII. 

Ring out, ye crystal spheres. 
Once bless our human ears, 

If ye have power to touch our senses so ; 
And let your silver chime 



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EARLY POEMS. 457 

Move in melodious time. 

And let the base of heaven's deep organ blow ; 
And with your ninefold harmony, 
Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. 

XIV. 

For if such holy song 
Inwrap our fancy long, 

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 
And speckled Vanity 
Will sicken soon and die, 

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould ; 
And Hell itself will pass away, 
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 

XV. 

Yea Truth and Justice then 
Will down return to men, 

Orb'd in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, 
Mercy will sit between, 
Throned in celestial sheen. 

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering : 
And heaven, as at some festival 
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 

XVI. 

But wisest Fate says No, 
This must not yet be so, 

The babe yet lies in smiling infancy, 
That on the bitter cross 
Must redeem our loss ; 

So both Himself and us to glorify; 
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, 
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep; 



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458 EARLY POEMS. 

XVII. 

With such a horrid clang, 
As on mount Sinai rang, 

While the red fire, and smouldering clouds out brake : 
The aged earth aghast, 
With terror of that blast, 

Shall from the surface to the centre shake ; 
When at the world's last session. 
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throne. 

XVIII. 

And then at last our bliss 
Full and perfect is, 

But now begins ; for from this happy day 
The old Dragon under ground 
In straiter limits bound, 

Not half so far casts his usurped sway. 
And wroth to see his kingdom fail. 
Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 

XIX. 

The oracles are dumb, 
No voice or hideous hum 

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving, 
Apollo from his shrine 
Can no more divine. 

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
No nightly trance or breathed spell 
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. 

XX. 

The lonely mountains o'er. 
And the resounding shore, 

A voice of weeping^ heard and loud lament; 
From haunted spring, and dale 

, 1 Alluding to the voice said to have been heard by mariners at sea, crying, "The great 

Pan is dead." The story is told by Plutarch. 



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EARLY POEMS. 459 

Edg^d with poplar pale, 

The partings genius is with sighing sent ; 
With flower-inwoven tresses torn 
The Nymphs in tvvihght shade of tangled thickets mourn. 

XXI. 

In consecrated earth, 
And on the holy hearth, 

The Lars/ and Lemures^ moan with midnight plaint; 
In urns, and altars round, 
A drear and dying sound 

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
And the chill marble seems to sweat, 
While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. 

XXII. 

Peor and Baalim 

Forsake their temples dim, 

With that twice batter'd God of Palestine f 
And mooned Ashtaroth, 
Heaven's queen and mother both,* 

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine; 
The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn, 
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz^ mourn. 

XXII I. 

And sullen Moloch fled,^ 
Hath left in shadows dread 

His burning idol all of blackest hue; 
In vain with cymbals ring 
They call the grisly king, 

In dismal dance about the furnace blue : 
The brutish Gods of Nile as fast, 
Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis haste. 



1 Household gods. 2 Ghosts. s Dagon. 

* She was called "Regina coeli"' and "Mater Deum." — Newton. 

6 Adonis. He was killed by a wild boar on Mount Lebanon, and was worshipped once 
a year by the Syrian women. 6 The god of the Ammonites. 

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a- — — — ^ 

460 EARLY POEMS, 

XXIV. 

Nor is Osiris^ seen 

In Memphian grove or green, 

Trampling the unshovver'd grass with lowings loud: 
Nor can he be at rest 
Within his sacred chest, 

Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud ; 
In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark 
The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark. 

XXV. 

He feels from Juda's land 
The dreaded Infant's hand, 

The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn ; 
Nor all the Gods beside. 
Longer dare abide. 

Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : 
Our Babe, to show His Godhead true, 
Can in His swaddling bands control the damned crew. 

XXVI. 

So when the sun in bed, 
Curtain'd with cloudy red, 

Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 
The flocking shadows pale 
Troop to the infernal jail, 

Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave ; 
And the yellow-skirted Fayes 
Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze. 

XXVII. 

But see the Virgin blest 
Hath laid her Babe to rest. 

Time is our tedious song should here have ending ; 
Heaven's youngest teemed star 



1 The Egyptian ox-god. 

(^ ^ 



^ ' — -67 

EARLY POEMS. 461 

Hath fix'd her poUsh'd car, 

Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending ; 
And all about the courtly stable 
Bright-harness'd Angels sit in order serviceable. 

UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 

Ye flaming Powers, and wingdd Warriors bright, 
That erst with music, and triumphant song, 
First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear. 
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
Through the soft silence of the listening night; 
Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear 
Your fiery essence can distil no tear, 
Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
Seas wept from our deep sorrow : 
He who with all heaven's heraldry whilere 
Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease; 
Alas, how soon our sin 

Sore doth begin 

His infancy to seize ! 
O more exceeding love, or law more just ? 
Just law indeed, but more exceeding love! 
For we by rightful doom remediless 
Were lost in death, till He that dwelt above 
High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
Emptied His glory, ev'n to nakedness ; 
And that great covenant which we still transgress 
Entirely satisfied, 
And the full wrath beside 
Of vengeful justice bore for our excess. 
And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, 
This day, but O ere long, 
Huge pangs and strong 

Will pierce more near his heart. 

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462 EARLY POEMS. 



THE PASSION. 



1629. 



Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth, 
Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring, 
And joyous news of heav'nly Infant's birth, 
My Muse with Angels did divide to sing; 
But headlong joy is ever on the wing, 

In wintry solstice like the shorten'd light 
Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night. 

II. 
For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 
And set my harp to notes of saddest woe. 
Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 
Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so, 
Which He for us did freely undergo : 

Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight 
Of labors huge and hard, too hard for human wight! 

III. 
He Sov'reign Priest stooping His regal head. 
That dropp'd with odorous oil down His fair eyes, 
Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 
His starry front low-roof'd beneath the skies : 
O what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 

Yet more; the stroke of death He must abide. 
Then lies Him meekly down fast by His brethren's side. 

IV. 

These latest scenes confine my roving verse, 
To this horizon is my Phoebus bound ; 
His god-like acts, and His temptations fierce. 
And former sufferings other where are found ; 
Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump ^ doth sound ; 

Me softer airs befit, and softer strings 
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 

1 Hieronymus Vida's Ckristiad, a fine Latin poem. Vida dwelt at Cremona. 

0^ ^ ^ 



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EARLY POEMS. 463 

V. 
Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief, 
Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 
And work my flatter'd fancy to belief, 
That Heaven and Earth are color'd with my woe ; 
My sorrows are too dark for day to know : 

The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 
And letters where my tears have wash'd a wannish white. 

VI. 

See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, 
That whirl'd the prophet up at Chebar flood ;^ 
My spirit some transporting Cherub feels. 
To bear me where the tow'rs of Salem stood, 
Once glorious tow'rs, now sunk in guiltless blood : 

There doth my soul in holy vision sit 
In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. 

VII. 

Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
That was the casket of Heav'n's richest store, 
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock. 
Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score 
My plaining verse as lively as before ; 

For sure so well instructed are my tears, 
That they would fitly fall in order'd characters. 

VIII. 

Or should I thence hurried on viewless wing, 
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild, 
The gentle neighborhood of grove and spring 
Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild. 
And I (for grief is easily beguiled) 

Might think th' infection of my sorrows loud 
Had hit a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 

This subject the Auihor finding to be above the years he had, \fvhen he wrote it, and 
nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished. 

1 Ezek. i. 15. 

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^ ^ 

464 EARLY POEMS. 

ON TIME.^ 
Fly envious Time till thou run out thy race, 
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, 
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; 
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, 
Which is no more than what is false and vain, 
And merely mortal dross ; 
So little is our loss, 
So little is thy gain. 

For when as each thing bad thou hast intomb'd, 
And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
With an individual kiss; 
And joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
When everything that is sincerely good 
And perfectly divine, 

With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine 
About the supreme throne 
Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone 
When once our heav'nly-guidcd soul shall. climb, 
Then all this earthly grossness quit, 
Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit. 

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, 
O Time. 

AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of heav'n's joy, 
Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, 
Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd pow'r employ 
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce ; 
And to our high-raised phantasy present 
That undisturbed song of pure concent, 

1 In Milton's MS. written with his own hand, — "On Time. To be set on a clock-case.''— 
WarTON. 

^ ^ 



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EARLY POEMS. 465 

Aye sung before the sapphire-color'd throne 

To Him that sits thereon, 

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee, 

Where the bright Seraphim in burning row 

Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow, 

And the cherubic host in thousand quires 

Touch their immortal harps of golden wires 

With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, 

Hymns devout and holy psalms 

Singing everlastingly: 

That we on earth with undiscording voice 

May rightly answer that melodious noise; 

As once we did, till disproportion'd sin 

Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din 

Broke the fair music that all creatures made 

To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd 

In perfect diapason, whilst they stood 

In first obedience, and their state of good. 

O may we soon again renew that song, 

And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long 

To his celestial concert us unite, 

To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light. 

— ^ ..O.cif.o- ^_ 



SONG. ON MAY MORNING. 
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger. 
Comes dancmg from the east, and leads with her 
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws 
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 
Mirth and youth, and warm desire ; ' 
Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 



30 



4 



#- — '■ -<b, 

466 EARLY POEMS. 

AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF 
WINCHESTER.^ 

This rich marble doth inter 

The honor'd wife of Winchester, 

A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir, 

Besides what her virtues fair 

Added to her noble birth, 

More than she could own from earth. 

Summers three times eight save one 

She had told; alas! too soon, 

After so short time of breath, 

To house with darkness, and with death. 

Yet had the number of her days 

Been as complete as was her praise, 

Nature and Fate had had no strife 

In giving limit to her life. 

Her high birth, and her graces sweet 

Quickly found a lover meet; 

The virgin choir for her request 

The god that sits at marriage feast ; 

He at their invoking came, 

But with a scarce well-lighted flame; 

And in his garland as he stood. 

Ye might discern a cypress bud.^ 

Once had the early matrons run 

To greet her of a lovely son, 

And now with second hope she goes 

And calls Lucina to her throes; 

But whether by mischance or blame 

1 This lady was the wife of John, Marquis of Winchesf^r, one of the noblest and most 
devoted of the adherents of Charles I. His house at Basing, in Hants, stood a two-years' 
siege by the rebels, and was finally levelled to the ground by them. Lord Winchester died 
in 1674. On his monument is an epitaph by Dryden. " It is remarkable," says Warton, 
" that both husband and wife should have severally received the honor of an epitaph from 
two such poets as Milton and Dryden. 2 An emblem of Death. 

^ ^ 



a 6b 

EARLY POEMS, 4^7 

Atropos^ for Lucina came; 

And with remorseless cruelty 

Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree : 

The hapless babe before his birth 

Had burial, yet not laid in earth, 

And the languish'd mother's womb 

Was not long a living tomb. 

So have I seen some tender slip. 

Saved with care from winter's nip, 

The pride of her carnation train, 

Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain, 

Who only thought to crop the flower 

New shot up from vernal shower; 

But the fair blossom hangs the head 

Side-ways, as on a dying bed, 

And those pearls of dew she wears 

Prove to be presaging tears. 

Which the sad morn had let fall 

On her hastening funeral. 

Gentle Lady, may thy grave 

Peace and quiet ever have ; 

After this thy travail sore 

Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 

That to give the world increase, 

Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease. 

Here, besides the sorrowing 

That thy noble house doth bring, 

Here be tears of perfect moan 

Wept for thee in Helicon, 

And some flowers, and some bays, 

For thy hearse, to strew the ways, 

Sent thee from the banks of Came, 

Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 

Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitt'st'in glory, 

1 One of the Fates, 

\ 

^ —4^ 



468 EARL V POEMS. 

Next her, much like to thee in story, 
That fair Syrian shepherdess/ 
Who after years of barrenness, 
The highly favor'd Joseph bore 
To him that served for her before, 
And at her next birth much like thee 
Through pangs fled to felicity, 
Far within the bosom bright 
Of blazing Majesty and Light: 
There with thee, new welcome Saint, 
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, 
With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 
No Marchioness, but now a Queen. 

• <^ •lO-fJ-Oi' ^ 

AN EPITAPH ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC POET 
W. SHAKESPEARE.2 1630. 

What needs my Shakespeare for his honor'd bones. 
The labor of an age in piled stones ? 
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid 
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid ? 
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy .name ? 
Thou in our wonder and astonishment 
Hast built thyself a live-long monument. 
For whilst to the shame of slow-endeavoring art 
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart 
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took. 
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving, 
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 
And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie. 
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. 

• . — ■ 

1 Rachel, the wife of Jacob. 

2 This Epitaph was prefixed to the folio edition of Shakespeare, 1632, but without Milton's 
name. It is the first of his poems which was published. 



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EARLY POEMS. 469 

ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. 

Who sickened in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, 
by reason of the Plague. 

Here lies old Hobson ;^ Death hath broke his girt, 

And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt ; 

Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, 

He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 

'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, 

Death was half glad when he had got him down ; 

For he had any time this ten years full. 

Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. 

And surely death could never have prevail'd, 

Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd ; 

But lately finding him so long at home, 

And thinking now his journey's end was come, 

And that he had ta'en up his latest inn. 

In the kind office of a chamberlin 

Show'd him his room where he must lodge that night, 

Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light : 

If any ask for him, it shall be said, 

Hobson has supp'd, and's newly gone to bed. 

ANOTHER ON THE SAME. 
Here lieth one, who did most truly prove 
That he could never die while he could move : 
So hung his destiny, never to rot 
While he might still jog on and keep his trot, 
Made of sphere-metal never to decay 
Until his revolution was at stay. 
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime 



1 This carrier gave rise to the old proverb of "Hobson-s choice : this or none," by always 
obliging the person who hired a horse of him to take the one standing next to the stable- 
door "SO every customer should have an equal chance of being well served, and every horse 
be used in its turn."— See Spectator, No. 509. 



^ 



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a- -a? 

470 EARLY POEMS. 

'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time : 

And like an engine moved with wheel and weight, 

His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 

Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death, 

And too much breathing put him out of breath ; 

Nor were it contradiction to affirm 

Too long vacation hasten'd on his term. 

Merely to drive the time away he sicken'd, 

Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd ; 

"Nay," quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd, 

"If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd. 

But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers, 

For one carrier put down to make six bearers." 

Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right, 

He died for heaviness, that his cart wentligh^: 

His leisure told him that his time was come, 

And lack of load made his life burdensome. 

That even to his last breath (there be that say't) 

As he were press'd to death, he cried " more weight;" 

But had his doings lasted as they were, 

He had been an immortal carrier. 

Obedient to the moon he spent his date 

In course reciprocal, and had his fate 

Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas, 

Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : 

His letters are deliver'd all and gone, 

Only remains this superscription. 



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EARLY POEMS. 471 

L'ALLEGRO.i 

Hence, loathed Melancholy. 

Of Cerberus^ and blackest Midnight born, 
In Stygian cave forlorn, 

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, 
Find out some uncouth cell. 

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, 
And the night raven sings ; 

There under ebon shades, and low brow'd rocks, 
As ragged as thy locks, 

In dark Cimmerian desert^ ever dwell. 
But come thou Goddess fair and free, 
In heaven y-clep'd Euphrosyne, 
And by men, heart-easing Mirth, 
Whom lovely Venus at a birth 
With two sister Graces more, 
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ; 
Or whether (as some sager sing) 
The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 
Zephyr with Aurora playing. 
As he met her once a Maying; 
There on beds of violets blue. 
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, 
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair. 
So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 

Haste thee. Nymph, and bring with thee 
Jest, and youthful Jollity, 
Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Whiles, 
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, 
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
And love to live in dimple sleek ; 



1 These two Poems — L' Allegro and // Penseroso — are supposed to have been written in 
Milton's youth, but were first published in 1648. 

2 The three-headed dog which kept the gate of Hell. 

3 The Cimmerians were proverbial for dwelling in dark caves. 

'^ ^ 



^ 



^ 



472 



EARLY POEMS. 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
And Laughter holding both his sides. 
Come, and trip it as you go, 
On the light fantastic toe ; 
And in thy right hand lead with thee 
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; 
And if I give thee honor due, 
Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 
To live with her, and live with thee, 
In unreproved pleasures free; 
To hear the lark begin his flight, 
And singing startle the dull night, 
From his watch-tower in the skies, 
Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 
Then to come in spite of sorrow, 
And at my window bid good-morrow. 
Through the sweet-briar or the vine, 
Or the twisted eglantine : 
While the cock with lively din 
Scatters the rear of darkness thin. 
And to the stack, or the barn-door. 
Stoutly struts his dames before : 
Oft listening how the hounds and horn 
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 
From the side of some hoar hill. 
Through the high wood echoing shrill : 
Some time walking, not unseen, 
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green. 
Right against the eastern gate, 
Where the great sun begins his state, 
Robed in flames, and amber light, 
The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 
While the ploughman near at hand 
Whistles o'er the furrowed land, 
And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 
And the mower whets his scythe, 



c^ ^ 4" 



^ 



EARLY POEMS. 473 

And every shepherd tells his tale 

Under the hawthorn in the dale. 

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures 

Whilst the landscape round it measures; 

Russet lawns and fallows gray, 

Where the nibbling flocks do stray, 

Mountains, on whose barren breast 

The lab'ring clouds do often rest; 

Meadows trim with daisies pied 

Shallow brooks, and rivers wide, 

Towers and battlements it sees 

Bosom'd high in tufted trees, 

Where perhaps some Beauty lies, 

The Cynosure^ of neighb'ring eyes. 

Hard by, a cottage-chimney smokes. 

From betwixt two aged oaks. 

Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, 

Are at their savory dinner set. 

Of herbs, and other country messes. 

Which the neat handed Phillis dresses ; 

And then in haste the bower she leaves, 

With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; 

Or, if the earlier season lead, 

To the tann'd haycock in the mead. 

Sometimes with secure delight 

The upland hamlets will invite. 

When the merry bells ring round, 

And the jocund rebecks" sound 

To many a youth, and many a maid. 

Dancing in the chequer'd shade ; 

And young and old come forth to play, 

On a sunshine holiday, 

Till the live-long daylight fail ; 

I The Pole star — alluding to its magnetic attraction. The magnetic needle always points 
to it. "Your eyes are lodestars, ' is said by Shakespeare. 
- .\ rebeck was a fiddle with three strings. 



1 



■^ 



CT-^ ^ 

I 474 EARLY POEMS, . 

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale/ 
With stories told of many a feat, 
How fairy Mab*the junkets eat; 
She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said. 
And he by friar's lanthorn^ led, 
Tells how the drudging Goblin sweat, 
To earn his cream-bowl duly set, 
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn. 
His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn. 
That ten day-lab'rers could not end ; 
Then lies him down the lubber fiend,' 
And stretch'd out all the chimney's length, 
Basks at the fire his hairy strength. 
And crop-full out of doors he flings, 
Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 
By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep. 
Tower'd cities please us then, 
And the busy hum of men, 
Where throngs of knights and barons bold 
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold. 
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
Rain influence, and judge the prize 
'Of wit, or arms, while both contend 
To win her grace, whom all commend. 
There let Hymen oft appear 
In saffron robe, with taper clear, 
And pomp, and feast, and revelry, 
With mask and antique pageantry, 
Such sights as youthful poets dream 
On summer eves by haunted stream. 
Then to the well-trod stage anon. 



1 The gossip's bowl, called "Lamb's wool." ^ Will-o'-the-Wisp. 

» Puck ; the Pixie, in Devonshire — the Kobold of Germany — supposed to do household 
work at night for the maids, who in return, left him a bowl of cream. 



-e 



^ e^ 

EARLY POEMS. 475 

If Jonson's learned sock be on. 

Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, 

Warble his native wood-notes wild. 

And ever against eating cares, 
Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
Married to immortal verse, 
Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 
In notes, with many a winding bout ^ 
Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 
With wanton heed and giddy cunning, 
The melting voice through mazes running, 
Untwisting all the chains that tie 
The hidden soul of harmony; 
That Orpheus self may heave his head 
From golden slumber on a bed 
Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear 
Such strains as would have won the ear 
Of Pluto, to have quite set free, 
His half regdin'd Eurydice. 

These delights if thou canst give. 
Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 

— ^ .•CK-^j'-Oi- ^— 

XL PENSEROSO. 
Hence, vain deluding joys, 

The brood of folly without father bred, 
How little you bestead, 

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ? 
Dwell in some idle brain, 

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, 
As thick and numberless 

As the gay motes that people the sunbeams. 
Or likest hovering dreams 

The fickle pensioners^ of Morpheus' train. 



1 Turn. 

2 Followers. The term was used first in this sense by a band of courtiers, who were en- 
rolled by Queen Elizabeth under that title. They were young nobles of the highest fashion 
of the period. 



^ 



^ 



476 EARLY POEMS. 

But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy. 

Hail divinest Melancholy, 
Whose saintly visage is too bright 
To hit the sense of human sight, 
And therefore to our weaker view 
O'crlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; 
Black, but such as in esteem 
Prince Memnon's^ sister might beseem, 
Or that starr'd Ethiop queen ^ that strove 
To set her beauty's praise above 
The Sea- Nymphs, and their powers offended : 
Yet thou art higher far descended; 
Thee bright-hair'd Vesta,^ long of yore, 
To solitary Saturn bore; 
His daughter she (in Saturn's reign, 
Such mixture was not held a stain). 
Oft in glimmering bow'rs and glades 
He met her, and in secret shades 
Of woody Ida's inmost grove. 
While yet there was no fear of Jove. 
Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, 
Sober, steadfast, and demure. 
All in a robe of darkest grain, 
Flowing with majestic train, 
And sable stole* of cyprus lawn. 
Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
Come, but keep thy wonted state, 

1 Memnon was King of Ethiopia, an ally of the Trojans. He was slain by Achilles. 

2 Cassiopeia, wife of Cepheus, King of Ethiopia. She boasted of being more beautiful 
than the Nereids, who, in anger, persuaded Neptune to send a sea-monster to devour the 
Ethiopians. Andromeda, her daughter, was exposed to it, but was saved by Perseus. Cas- 
siopeia had a constellation named after her; i.e., Cassiopeia's chair. Hence, Milton says 
"slarr'd Ethiop queen." 

3 The goddess of fire. "The meaning of Milton's allegory," says Warton, "is, that 
Melancholy is the daughter of Genius, which is typified by the 'bright-haired goddess of 
eternal fire." Saturn, the father, is the god of saturnine dispositions, of pensive and gloomy 
minds." 

* Stole, a veil which covered the head and shoulders, worn by Roman matrons. 

4^ -. -^ 



^ 



EARLY POEMS. 477 

With even step and musing gait, 
And looks commercing with the skies. 
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: 

There held in holy passion still, 

Forget thyself to marble, till 

With a sad leaden downward cast, 

Thou fix them on the earth as fast : 

And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, 

Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet, 

And hears the Muses in a ring 

Aye round about Jove's altar sing : 

And add to these retired Leisure, 

That in trim gardens takes his pleasure ; 

But first, and chiefest, with thee bring. 

Him that yon soars on golden wing. 

Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne. 

The Cherub Contemplation ; 

And the mute Silence hist along, 

'Less Philomel will deign a song. 

In her sweetest, saddest plight. 

Smoothing the rugged brow of night. 

While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, 

Gently o'er the accustomed oak ; 

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly. 

Most musical, most melancholy ! 
Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among 
I woo, to hear thy even-song ; 
And missing thee, I walk unseen 
On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
To behold the wandering moon, • 
Riding near her highest noon, 
Like one that had been led astray 
Through the heav'n's wide pathless way j 
And oft, as if her head she bow'd, 
Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 
Oft on a plat of rising ground. 



f ^ 

478 EARLY POEMS, 

I hear the far-off curfew sound, 

Over some wide water'd shore, 

Swinging slow with sullen roar; 

Or if the air will not permit, 

Some still removed place will fit, 

Where glowing embers through the room 

Teach light to counterfeit a gloom ; 

Far from all resort of mirth, 

Save the cricket on the hearth, 

Or the bellman's drowsy charm. 

To bless the doors from nightly harm : 

Or let my lamp at midnight hour 

Be seen in some high lonely tower. 

Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,^ 

With thrice-great Hermes,^ or unsphere 

The spirit of Plato, to unfold 

What worlds, or what vast regions hold 

The immortal mind, that hath forsook 

Her mansion in this fleshly nook : 

And of those Demons* that are found 

In fire, air, flood, or under ground. 

Whose power hath a true consent 

With planet, or with element. 

Sometimes let gorgeous tragedy 

In sceptred pall come sweeping by 

Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,* 

Or the tale of Troy divine. 

Or what (though rare) of later age 

Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. 

But, O sad Virgin, "that thy power 

1 Ursa Major. This constellation never sets. 

■'= Trismegistus, i.e., "the thrice-grand." He was an Egyptian priest and astronomer, 
who instructed his countrymen in the sciences. Tiie works, translated and published as his, 
are said to be apocryphal. 

* Plato believed that the elements were peopled with spirits. 

* The story of Thebes, of CEdipus and his sons, and the horrid tradition of Pelops, were 
the subjects of the great Greek tragedies. 

'^ ^ 



s ^ — ^ 



EARLY POEMS. 479 



Misht raise Musaeus^ from his bower, 

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 

Such notes as warbled to the string, 

Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, 

And made Hell grant what love did seek,* 

Or call up him'^ that left half told 

The story of Cambuscan bold, 

Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 

And who had Canace to wife. 

That own'd the virtuous ring and glass, 

And of the wondrous horse of brass, 

On which the Tartar king did ride ; 

And if aught else great bards beside* 

In sage and solemn tunes have sung, 

Of turneys and of trophies hung, 

Of forests and enchantments drear, 

Where more is meant than meets the ear. 

Thus Night oft see me in thy pale career, 

Till civil suited Morn appear. 

Not trick'd and frounced'^ as she was wont 

With the Attic boy'' to hunt, 

But kerchef 'd in a comely cloud, 

While rocking winds are piping loud, 

Or usher'd with a shower still, 

When the gust hath blown his fill. 

Ending on the rustling leaves. 

With minute drops from off the eaves. 

And when the sun begins to fling 



1 Museus and Orpheus are mentioned together in Plato's "Republic" as two of the gen- 
uine Greek poets. — T. Warton. 

2 Pluto, charmed by the music of Orpheus, restored to hinl his dead wife, Eurydice. 

3 Chaucer. "The Squire's Tale" is alluded to. 
* Alluding to Spenser's "Fairie Queen." 

5 "Frounced" meant an excessive or affected dressing of the hair. "It is from the French 
froncer, to curl.'" — T. WARTON. "Tricked" means "dressed out." 

6 Cephalus. Aurora, the goddess of the morning, fell m love with him.— OviD, Met. 
VII. 701. 



^ 




480 EARLY POEMS. 

His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring, 

To arched walks of twilight groves, 

And shadows brown that Sylvan loves 

Of pine or monumental oak, 

Where the rude axe with heaved stroke 

Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, 

Or fright them from their hallo w'd haunt. 

There in close covert by some brook, 

Where no profaner eye may look, 

Hide me from day's garish'^ eye. 

While the bee with honied thigh. 

That at her flow'ry work doth sing, 

And the waters murmuring 

With such consort as they keep, 

Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep ; 

And let some strange mysterious dream 

Wave at his wings in airy stream 

Of lively portraiture display'd, 

Softly on my eyelids laid. 

And as I wake, sweet music breathe 

Above, about, or underneath, 

Sent by some Spirit to mortals good. 

Or the unseen Genius of the wood. 

But let my due feet never fail 

To walk the studious cloisters pale,'' 

And love the high embowed roof. 

With antic pillars massy proof, 

And storied windows richly dight, 

Casting a dim religious light : 

There let the pealing organ blow. 

To the full voiced choir below. 

In service high and anthems clear, 

As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 

Dissolve me into ecstasies. 



1 Gaudy. " Warton conjectures that the right reading is cloister s pale, i.e. enclosure. 



a ^ 

EARLY POEMS. 481 

And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 
And may at last my weary age 
Find out the peaceful hermitage, 
The hairy gown and mossy cell. 
Where I may sit and rightly spell 
Of every star that heav'n doth show. 
And ev'ry herb that sips the dew ; 
Till old experience do attain 
To something like prophetic strain. 
These pleasures Melancholy give, 
And I with thee will choose to live. 

.<gog> K>-5>o. <a§>- 

ARCADES. 

Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Derby, i at Harefield, by 
some noble persons of her family, who appear on the scene in pastoral habit, moving 
toward the seat of state, with this song : — 

Song I. 
Look, nymphs, and shepherds look. 
What sudden blaze of majesty 
Is that which we from hence descry. 
Too divine to be mistook : 

This, this is she 
To whom our views and wishes bend : 
Here our solemn search hath end. 
Fame, that her high worth to raise, 
Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse. 
We may justly now accuse 
Of detraction from her praise. 

Less than half we find express'd, 

Envy bid conceal the rest. 

1 Alice Spenser, daughter of Sir John Spenser, of Althorpe. Milton lived in the neighbor- 
hood of Harefield, which was near Uxbridge. His father lived at Horton, near Colnebrook, 
and held his house under the Earl of Bridgewater. Lady Derby was a generous patroness 
of poets, Spenser was related to her family. 

c^ ^ ^ 



^ ■ -<b 

482 EARLY POEMS. 

Mark what radiant state she spreads, 
In circle round her shining throne, 
Shooting her beams like silver threads ; 
This, this is she alone. 

Sitting like a Goddess bright, 

In the centre of her light. 
Might she the wise Latona be, 
Or the towered Cybele, 
Mother of a hundred Gods ? 
Juno dares not give her odds ; 

Who had thought this clime had held 

A deity so unparallel'd ? 

As they come forward, the Genius of the Wood appears, and, turning toward them, speaks. 

Gen. Stay, gentle Swains, for though in this disguise, 

I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes ; 

Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 

Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 

Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluice 

Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ;^ 

And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 

Fair silver buskin 'd Nymphs, as great and good, 

I know this quest of yours, and free intent 

Was all in honor and devotion meant 

To the great mistress of yon princely shrine. 

Whom with low rev'rence I adore as mine. 

And with all helpful service will comply 

To further this night's glad solemnity ; 

And lead ye where ye may more near behold 

What shallow searching Fame has left untold 

Which I full oft amidst these shades alone 

Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon : 

For know, by lot from Jove I am the Power 



1 A river of Arcadia, which sinks into the earth, passes under the sea, without mixing its 
waters with the salt waves, and rises near Syracuse, in Sicily, where it joins the Arethusa, 
and flows conj ointly with that stream to the sea. See Shelley's exquisite poem , • 'Arethusa." 



4- 



EARLY POEMS. 483 

Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bovver, 

To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 

With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove; 

And all my plants I save from nightly ill 

Of noisome winds, and blasting vapors chill: 

And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, 

And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, 

Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites, 

Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. 

When ev'ning gray doth rise, I fetch my round 

Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground ; 

And early, ere the odorous breath of morn 

Awakes the slumb'ring leaves, or tassell'd horn 

Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about, 

Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 

With puissant words and murmurs made to bless; 

But else, in deep of night, when drowsiness 

Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I 

To the celestial Sirens' harmony, 

That sit upon the nine infolded spheres,^ 

And sing to those that hold the vital shears, 

And turn the adamantine spindle round, ^ 

On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. 

Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, 

To lull the daughters of Necessity 

And keep unsteady nature to her law. 

And the low world in measured motion draw 

After the heav'nly tune, which none can hear 

Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear; 

1 The Muses. 

2 This is Plato's system. Fate, or Necessity, holds a spindle of adamant; and with her 
three daughters — Lachesis, Clotho, and Atropos (the Fates) — who handle the vital web 
wound round about the spindle, she conducts or turns the heavenly bodies. Nine Muses, 
or .Sirens, sit on the summit of the spheres, which, in their revolutions, produce the most 
ravishing musical harmony. To this' harmony the three daughters of Necessity perpetually 
sing in correspondent tones. In the meantime, the adamantine spindle, which is placed on 
the lap of Necessity .... is also revolved.— T. Warton. 

4- -^ 



s~ -^ 



484 EARLY POEMS. 

And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
The peerless height of her immortal praise, 
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, 
If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
Inimitable sounds : yet as we go, 
Whate'er the skill of lesser Gods can show, 
I will assay, her worth to celebrate. 
And so attend ye toward her glitt'ring state; 
Where ye may all that are of noble stem 
Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. 

Song II. 

O'er the smooth enamell'd green, 
Where no print of step hath been. 

Follow me as I sing, 

And touch the warbled string, 
Under the shady roof 
Of branching elm star-proof. 

Follow me, 
I will bring you where she sits. 
Clad in splendor as befits 

Her deity. 
Such a rural Queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 

Song III. 

Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more 

By sandy Ladon's^ lilied banks. 
On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar 

Trip no more in twilight ranks, 
Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 

A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
From the stony Maenalus 
Bring your flocks, and live with us ; 

1 A beautiful river of Arcadia. 



i- 



4 



EARLY POEMS. 485 



Here ye shall have greater grace, 
To serve the lady of this place; 
Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 
Such a rural Queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 



^ k^ 



s- 



486 COMUS. 



COMUS, A MASK. 1634. 

Presented at Ludlow Castle before John, Earl of Bridgewater, then President of Wales. 
"Comus was su^'gested to the Poet by the fact that the two sons and the daughter of the 
Earl of Bridgewater, on their return from a visit to some relations in Herefordshire, were 
benighted in Haywood Forest ; and the Lady Alice was, for a short time, lost. The Mask 
was written for the Michaelmas festivities of 1634, and acted by Lord Bridgewater's chil- 
dren. The music composed for it was by Henry Lawes, who performed in it the part of 
the Spirit or Thyrsis. He was the son of Thomas Lawes, a Vicar-Choral of Salisbury 
Cathedral, and was at first a chorister himself. He became finally one of the Court musicians 
to Charles L Masks and music fled before the stern gloom of the Commonwealth, and 
Lawes was compelled to gain his living by teaching the lute. His greatest friends during 
this period of difficulty and poverty were the Ladies Alice and Mary Egerton. He lived to 
the Restoration, and composed the Coronation Anthem for Charles II. "Comus" was 
first published by Lawes, without Milton's name, in 1637, with a dedication to Lord Brack- 
ley. Masks were the fashion of the age; and Milton was probably called on by Lord 
Bridgewater to produce one, because he had already written the "Arcades'' for Lady 
Bridgewater's mother. Lady Derby, at Harefield, in Middlesex, 

THE PERSONS. 

First Brother. 

Second Brother. 

Sabrina, the Nymph. 



The attendant Spirit, afterwards in the habit 
Comus, with his crew. [of Thyrsis. 

The Lady, 



THE CHIEF PERSONS WHO PRESENTED WERE — 

The Lord Brackley. | Mr. Thomas Egerton, his brother. 

The Lady Alice Egerton. 

The First Scene discovers a Wild Wood. 

The attendant Spirit 1 descends or enters. 

Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 

Of bright aerial spirits live insphered 

In regions mild of calm and serene air, 

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 

Which men call Earth, and with low-thought6d care 

Confined, and pester'd ^ in this pinfold here, 

Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 

Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, 

After this mortal change to her true servants. 

Amongst the enthroned Gods on sainted seats, 

1 The spirit is called "Dcemon" in the Cambridge MS.— WartON. 

2 Crowded; from pesia, a crowd. 



^ ^ ep 

COMUS. A^7 

Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 
To lay their just hands on that golden key, 
That opes the palace of eternity ; 
To such my errand is; and but for such, 
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
With the rank vapors of this sin-worn mould. 
But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream 
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 
Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles, 
That like to rich and various gems inlay 
The unadorned bosom of the deep ; 
Which he, to grace his tributary Gods, 
By course commits to sev'ral government, 
And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
And wield their little tridents : but this Isle, 
The greatest and the best of all the main. 
He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities; 
And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 
A noble Peer of mickle trust and power 
Has in his charge with temper'd awe to guide 
An old and haughty nation proud in arms •} 
Where his fair offspring, nursed in princely lore, 
Are coming to attend their father's state, 
And new-intrusted sceptre ; but their way 
Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood. 
The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
Threats the forlorn and wand'ring passenger; 
And here their tender age might suffer peril. 
But that by quick command from sov'reign Jove 
I was dispatch'd for their defence and guard ; 
And listen why, for I will tell you now 
What never yet was heard in tale or song, 
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 



1 The Welsh. 



<^ -4^ 



^ -^ 

488 COMUS. 

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine, • 
After the Tuscan mariners transform'd, 
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, 
On Circe's island fell : who knows not Circe, 
The daughter of the sun, whose charmed cup 
Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, 
And downward fell into a grovelling swine ? 
This Nymph that gazed upon his clustering locks, 
With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth, 
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son. 
Much like his father, but his mother more. 
Whom therefore she brought up, and'Comus^ named : 
Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age. 
Roving the Cel:ic and Iberian fields. 
At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 
And in thick shelter of black shades imbower'd 
Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
Offering to ev'ry weary traveller 
His orient liquor in a crystal glass. 
To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste, 
(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst) 
Soon as the potion works, their human countenance. 
The express resemblance of the Gods, is changed 
Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear, 
Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat, 
All other parts remaining as they were ; 
And they, so perfect is their misery, 
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. 
But boast themselves more comely than before. 
And all their friends and native home forget. 
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
Therefore, when any favor'd of high Jove 



1 Comus was the god of good cheer. He had appeared as a dramatic personage in one 
of Jonson's Masks before the Court, 1619. 



^ 



<b 



COMUS. 489 

Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, 

Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 

I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy, 

As now I do: But first I must put off 

These my sky robes spun out of Iris' woof, 

And take the weeds and likeness of a swain, 

That to the service of this house belongs. 

Who with his soft pipe, and smooth dittied song, 

Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar. 

And hush the waving woods, nor of less faith. 

And in this office of his mountain watch, 

Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 

Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 

Of hateful steps, I must be viewless now. 

Comus enters with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the other ; with him a rout of 
monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, 
their apparel glistening; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in 
their hands. 

CoMUS. The star that bids the shepherd fold, 
Now the top of heaven doth hold ; 
And the gilded car of day • 
His glowing axle doth allay 
In the steep Atlantic stream ; 
And the slope sun his upward beam 
Shoots against the dusky pole. 
Pacing toward the other goal 
Of his chamber in the east. 
Meanwhile welcome Joy, and Feast, 
Midnight Shout and Revelry, 
Tipsy Dance and Jollity. 
Braid your locks with rosy twine, 
Dropping odors, dropping wine. 
Rigor now is gone to bed, 
And Advice with scrupulous head, 
Strict Age, and sour Severity, 
With their grave saws in slumber lie. 



^ 



490 COMUS. 

We that are of purer fire 

Imitate the starry quire, 

Who in their nightly watchful spheres 

Lead in swift round the months and years. 

The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove. 

Now to the moon in wavering morrice ^ move ; 

And on the tawny sands and shelves 

Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 

By dimpled brook, and fountain brim, 

The wood-nymphs deck'd with daisies trim, 

Their merry wakes and pastimes keep ; 

What hath night to do with sleep ? 1 

Night hath better sweets to prove, i 

Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 

Come let us our rites begin, 

'Tis only day-light that makes sin. 

Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 

Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport, 

Dark-veil'd Cotytto," t' whom the secret flame 

Of midnight torches burns ; mysterious dame, 

That ne'r art call'd, but when the dragon womb 

Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom. 

And makes one blot of all the air ; 

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 

Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat, and befriend 

Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end 

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out. 

Ere the babbling eastern scout. 

The nice morn, on the Indian steep 

From her cabin'd loophole peep, 

And to the tell-tale sun descry 

Our conceal'd solemnity. 



1 The morice, or Moorish dance, long a great favorite with our ancestors. It was intro- 
duced by John of Gaunt, it is said, in the reign of Edward III., on his return from Spain. 

2 The goddess of wantonness, worshipped by the ancient Greeks at night. 





h • ^ 




c 


J 




^ 


'J 






COMUS. 491 








Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 










In a hght fantastic round. 










The Measure. 










Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 










Of some chaste footing near about this ground 










Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees ; 










Our number may affright: Some virgin sure 










(For so I can distinguish by mine art) 










Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 










And to my wily trains ; I shall ere long 










Be well-stock'd with as fair a herd as grazed 










About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 










My dazzling spells into the spungy air, 










Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion. 










And give it false presentments, lest the place 










And my quaint habits breed astonishment, 










And put the damsel to suspicious flight, 










Which must not be, for that's against my course: 










I, under fair pretence of friendly ends. 










And well-placed words of glozing courtesy 


' - 








Baited with reasons not unplausible. 










"Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 










And hug him into snares. When once her eye 










Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 










I shall appear some harmless villager. 










Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 










But here she comes, I fairly^ step aside. 










And hearken, if I may, her business here. 










The Lady enters. 










Lady. This way the noise was, if mine ear be true. 










My best guide now ; methought it was the sound 






- 


Of riot and ill-managed merriment. 






1 Softly. 






q 


^ 




r 


^ 


^ ' • VJ 1 



a- ^ 

492 COMUS. 

Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe 
Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds, 
When for their teeming flocks, and granges full. 
In wanton dance, they praise the bounteous Pan, 
And thank the Gods amiss. I should be loath 
To meet the rudeness, and swill'd insolence 
Of such late vvassailers ; yet O where else 
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood ? 
My Brothers, when they saw m-e wearied out 
With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
Under the spreading favor of these pines, 
Stepp'd, as they said, to the next thicket side 
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
They left me then, when the gray-hooded Even, 
Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 
But where they arc, and why they came; not back. 
Is now the labor of my thoughts ; 'tis likeliest 
They had engaged their wandering steps too far ; 
And envious darkness, ere they could return. 
Had stole them from me : else, O thievish Night, 
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, 
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars. 
That nature hung in heaven, and fiU'd their lamps 
With everlasting oil, to give due light 
To the misled and lonely traveller ? 
This is the place, as well as I may guess, 
Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 
Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear, 
Yet nought but single darkness do I find. 
What might this be ? A thousand fantasies 
Begin to throng into my memory, 
Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, 
And airy tongues that syllable men's names 



^ -^ 

COMUS. 493 

On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. 
These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 
The "virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
By a strong-siding- champion. Conscience. — 

welcome pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
Thou hov'ring Angel, girt with golden wings, 
And thou, unblemish'd form of Chastity ! 

1 see ye visibly, and now believe 
That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, 
Would send a glistening guardian, if need were, 
To keep my life and honor unassail'd. 
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? 
I did not err, there does a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night, 
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove : 
I cannot halloo to my Brothers, but 
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 
I'll venture, for my new enliven'd spirits 
Prompt me ; and they perhaps are not far off. 

Song. 

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen 

Within thv airy shell, 
By slow Meander's margent green, 
And in the violet embroider'd vale. 

Where the love-lorn nightingale 
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; 
Canst thou not tell me of a gentler pair 

That likest thy Narcissus are ? 

O, if thou have 
Hid them in some flowery cave, 

Tell me but where. 
Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere! 

d^ ^ 



494 COMUS. 

So mayst thou be translated to the skies, 
And give resounding grace to all heav'n's harmonies. 

Enter Comus. 

Com. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould 
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? 
Sure something holy lodges in that breast, 
And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
To testify his hidden residence: 
How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night. 
At every fall smoothing the raven down 
Of darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
My mother Circe with the Sirens three, 
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades, 
Culling their potent herbs, and baleful drugs, 
Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, 
And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept, 
And chid her barking waves into attention, 
And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause 
Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, 
And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; 
But such a sacred, and home-felt delight, 
Such sober certainty of waking bliss 
I never heard till now. I'll speak to her. 
And she shall be my queen. Hail, foreign wonder! 
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed. 
Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest song 
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 

Lad. Nay, gentle Shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
That is address'd to unattending ears ; 
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
How to regain my sever'd company, 
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo 

<^ ^ ^ 



COMUS, 495 

To give mo answer from her mossy couch. 

Com. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus ? 

Lad. Dim darkness, and this leafy labyrinth. 

Com. Could that divide you from near-ushering guides? 

Lad. They left me weary on a grassy turf 

Com. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or wh}' ? 

Lad. To seek in the valley some cool friendly spring. 

Com. And left your fair side all unguarded. Lady ? 

Lad. They were but twain, and purposed quick return. 

Com. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 

Lad. How easy my misfortune is to hit! 

Com. Imports their loss, beside the present need? 

Lad. No less than if I should my Brothers lose. 

Com. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom? 

Lad. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 

Com. Two such I saw, what time the labor'd ox 
In his loose traces from the furrow came, 
And the swink'd' hedger at his supper sat ; 
I saw them under a green mantling vine 
That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots; 
Their port was more than human, as they stood : 
I took it for a faery vision 
Of some gay creatures of the element, 
That in the colors of the rainbow live, 
A^nd play i' th' plighted clouds. I was awe-struck, 
And as I pass'd, I worshipp'd ; if those you seek, 
It were a journey like the path to heav'n, 
To help you find them. 

Lad. Gentle Villager, 
What readiest way would bring me to that place ? 

Com. Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 

Lad. To find that out, good Shepherd, I suppose. 
In such a scant allowance of star-light, 

1 Wearied with toil. , 



^ -^ 

496 COMUS. 

Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
Without the sure guess of well-practised feet, 

Com. I know each lane, and every alley green, 
Dingle or bushy dell of this wild wood, 
And every bosky bourn from side to side, 
My daily walks and ancient neighborhood ; 
And if your stray attendants be yet lodged 
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
From her thatch'd pallet rouse; if otherwise 
I can conduct you. Lady, to a low 
But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 
Till further quest. 

Lad. Shepherd, I take thy word, 
And trust thy honest offer'd courtesy, 
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds 
With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls 
And courts of princes, where it first was named. 
And yet is most pretended : in a place 
Less v/arranted than this, or less secure 
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd, lead on. 

Enter the two Brothers. 

I Br. Unmuffle, ye faint stars, and thou, fair moon, 
That wont'st to love the traveller's benizon. 
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
In double night of darkness and of shades ; 
Or if your influence be quite damm'd up 
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper. 
Though a rush candle, from the wicker-hole 
Of some clay habitation, visit us 
With thy long-levell'd rule of streaming light ; 

^ ^ ^ 



COMUS. 497 '. 

And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 

Or Tyrian Cynosure.' 
2 Br. Or if our eyes 

Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear 

The folded flocks penn'd in their wattled cotes, 

Or sound of past'ral reed, with oaten stops, 

Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 

Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 

'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering 

In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 

But O that hapless virgin, our lost Sister, 

Where may she wander now, whither betake her 

From the chill dew, among rude burs and thistles ? 

Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now, 

Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 

Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with sad fears. 

What, if in wild amazement and affright. 

Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 

Of savage hunger, or of savage heat ? 

I Br. Peace, Brother, be not over-exquisite 
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils ; 

For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 

What need a man forestall his date of grief. 

And run to meet what he would most avoid ? 

Or if they be but false alarms of fear, 

How bitter is such self-delusion ! 

I do not think my Sister so to seek. 

Or so unprincipled in virtue's book. 

And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 

As that the single want of light and noise 

(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 

Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts. 



1 Our Greater or Lesser Bear star. Calisto, the daughter of Lycaon, King of Acadia, 
was changed into the Greater Bear, called also Helice, and her son Areas into the Lesser, 
called also Cynosura, (seep. 28,) by observing of which the Tyrians and Sidonians steered 
their course, as the Greek mariners did by the other.— Newton. 

^ ^ ^ 



498 COMUS. 

And put them into misbecoming plight. 
Virtue could see to do what virtue would 
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self 
. Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, 

Where with her best nurse Contemplation 

She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 

That in the various bustle of resort 

Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. 

He that has light within his own clear breast. 

May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : 

But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, 

Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; 

Himself is his own dungeon. 

2 Br. 'Tis most true, 
That musing meditation most affects 
The pensive secrecy of desert cell, 
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds, 
And sits as safe as in a senate house ; 
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds. 
His few books, or his beads, or maple dish, 
Or do his gray hairs any violence? 
But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye. 
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit 
From the rash hand of bold incontinence. 
You may as well spread out the unsunn'd heaps 
Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den. 
And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 
Danger will wink on opportunity, 
And let a single helpless maiden pass 
Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
Of night, or loneliness, it recks me not; 
I fear the dread events that dog them both, 
Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 

i^ ^ 



^ : -^ 

COMUS. 499 

Of our unowned Sister. 

1 Br. I do not, Brother, 
Infer, as if I thought my Sister's state 
Secure without all doubts, or controversy; 
Yet where an equal poise of hope and fear 
Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
That I incline to hope, rather than fear, 
And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
My Sister is not so defenceless left, 
As you imagine; she has a hidden strength, 
Which you remember not. 

2 Br. What hidden strength, 
Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that? 

I Br. I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength, 
Which, if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own ; 
'Tis chastity, my Brother, chastity : 
She that has that, is clad in complete steel, 
And like a quiver'd Nymph with arrows keen 
May trace huge forests, and unharbor'd heaths. 
Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds, 
Where through the sacred rays of chastity. 
No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer 
Will dare to soil her virgin purity: 
Yea tliere, where very desolation dwells, 
By grots, and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades. 
She may pass on with unblench'd majesty, 
Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 
Some say no evil thing that walks by night, 
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, 
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, 
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, 
No goblin, or swart faery of the mine. 
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. 
Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 
Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
To testify the arms of chastity ? 

%- ^ 



s- ^ ^ 



500 



COM[/S. 

Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow, 

Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 

Wherewith she tamed the brinded honess 

And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought 

The frivolous bolt of Cupid; Gods and men 

Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th' woods. 

What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield, 

That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin. 

Wherewith she freezed her foes to congeal'd stone, 

But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 

And noble grace that dash'd brute violence 

With sudden adoration and blank awe ? 

So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity. 

That when a soul is found sincerely so, 

A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. 

And in clear dream, and solemn vision. 

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear. 

Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants 

Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 

The unpolluted temple of the mind, 

And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, 

Till all be made immortal : but when lust. 

By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, 

But most by lewd and lavish act of sin. 

Lets in defilement to the inward parts. 

The soul grows clotted by contagion, 

Imbodies, and imbrutcs, till she quite lose 

The divine property of her first being. 

Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 

Oft seen in charnel vaults, and sepulchres, 

Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave, 

As loth to leave the body that it loved. 

And link'd itself by carnal sensuality 

To a degenerate and degraded state. 

2 Br. How charming is divine philosophy ! 



4 



^ 



COMUS. 501 

Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical, as is Apollo's lute, 
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, 
Where no crude surfeit reigns. 

1 Br. List, list, I hear 

Some far off halloo break the silent air. 

2 Br. Methought so too : what should it be ? 

1 Br. For certain 

Either some one like us night-founder'd here, 
Or else some neighbor woodman, or, at worst, 
Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 

2 Br. Heav'n keep my Sister. Again, again, and near; 
Best draw, and stand upon our guard. 

1 Br. I'll halloo ; 

If he be friendly, he comes well ; if not. 
Defence is a good cause and Heav'n be for us. 

Enter the attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 

That halloo I should know, what are you ? speak ; 
Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 

Spir. What voice is that ? my young Lord ? speak again. 

2 Br. O brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, sure. 

I Br. Thyrsis ? Whose artful strains have oft delay'd 
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,^ 
And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale. 
How camest thou here, good swain ? hath any ram 
Slipt from the fold, or young kid lost his dam. 
Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook ? 
How could'st thou find this dark sequestr'd nook ? 

Spir. O my lov'd master's heir, and his next joy, 
I came not here on such a trivial toy 
As a stray'd ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth 
That doth enrich these downs is worth a thoueht 



1 A compliment to Lawes. 



^- ^ 

502 COMUS. 

To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
But, O my my virgin Lady, where is she ? 
How chance she is not in your company? 

I Br. To tell thee sadly,^ Shepherd, without blame. 
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 

Spir. Aye me unhappy ! then my fears are true. 

I Br. What fears, good Thyrsis ? Prithee briefly show. 

Spir. I'll tell ye; 'tis not vain or fabulous, 
Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance, 
What the sage poets, taught by the heav'nly Muse, 
Storied of old, in high immortal verse, 
Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles, 
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell ; 
For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 

Within the navel of this hideous wood. 
Immured in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells. 
Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus. 
Deep skill'd in all his mother's witcheries, 
And here to every thirsty wanderer 
By sly enticement gives his baneful cup. 
With many murmurs mix'd, whose pleasing poison 
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage 
Character'd in the face : this I have learnt 
Tending my flocks hard by i' th' hilly crofts, 
That brow this bottom-glade, whence, night by night, 
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl, 
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey. 
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate • 
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
Yet have they many bates and guileful spells, 
To inveigle and invite the unwary sense 
Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 

1 Soberly, seriously. — Newton. 

^ ■ -^ 



^ ^ -^ 

COMUS. 503 

This ev'ning late, by then the chewing flocks 

Had ta'en their supper on the savory herb 

Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 

I sat me down to watch upon a bank 

With ivy canopied, and interwove 

With flaunting honey-suckle, and began. 

Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy, 

To meditate my rural minstrelsy. 

Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close, 

The wonted roar was up amidst the woods. 

And fiU'd the air with barbarous dissonance ; 

At which I ceased, and listen'd them a while, 

Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 

Gave respite to the drowsy frighted steeds. 

That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep ; 

At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 

Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, 

And stole upon the air, that even Silence 

Was took ere she was ware, and wish'd she might 

Deny her nature, and be never more, 

Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 

And took in strains that might create a soul 

Under the ribs of death : but O ere long 

Too well I did perceive it was the voice 

Of my most honor'd Lady, your dear Sister. 

Amazed I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear. 

And O poor hapless nightingale thought I, 

How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare! 

Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 

Through paths and turnings often trod by day. 

Till guided by mine ear I found the place, 

Where that damn'd wizard, hid in sly disguise, 

(For so by certain signs I knew) had met 

Already, ere my best speed could prevent 

The aidless innocent Lady his wish'd prey. 

Who gently ask'd if he had seen such two. 



s- 



^ 



504 COMUS. 

Supposing him some neighbor villager. 
Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess'd 
Ye were the two she meant; with that I sprung 
Into swift flight, till I had found you here, 
But further know I not. 

2 Br. O night and shades, 
How are ye join'd with Hell in triple knot, 
Against the unarm'd weakness of one virgin, 
Alone and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
You gave me, Brother? 

I Br. Yes, and keep it still, 
Lean on it safely; not a period 
Shall be unsaid for me : against the threats 
Of malice or of sorcer}/, or that power 
Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm. 
Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt, 
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd ; 
Yea even that which niischief meant most harm, 
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory: 
But evil on itself shall back recoil, 
And mix no more with goodness, when at last 
Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself, 
It shall be in eternal restless change 
Self-fed, and self-consumed: if this fail, 
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness. 
And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on. 
Against the opposing will and arm of heaven 
May never this just sword be lifted up ; 
But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt 
With all the grisly legions that troop 
Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 
Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 
'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, 
And force him to return his purchase back, ^ 
Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 
Cursed as his life. 



4> 



4 



COMUS, 505 

Spir. Alas ! good vent'rous youth, 
I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise; 
But here thy sword can do thee little stead, 
Far other arms and other weapons must 
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms: 
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints, 
And crumble all thy sinews. 

I Br. Why prithee, Shepherd, 
How durst thou then thyself approach so near, 
As to make this relation ? 

Spir. Care and utmost shifts 
How to secure the Lady from surprisal. 
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad, 
Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd 
In every virtuous plant and healing herb, 
That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray : 
He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing, 
Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
Would sit, and hearken e'en to ecstasy, 
And in requital ope his leathern scrip. 
And show me simples of a thousand names, 
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties : 
Amongst the rest a small unsightly root. 
But of divine effect, he cull'd me out ; 
The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, 
But in another country, as he said, 
Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : 
Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain 
Treads on it daily with his clouted ^ shoon, 
And yet more med'cinal is it than that moly 
That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave ; 
He call'd it haemony, and gave it me, 
■ And bad me keep it as of sovereign use 

'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp, 



1 Clouts are thin and narrow plates of iron, affixed with hobnails to the shoes of rustics. — 
T. Warton. 



^ -^ 

506 COMUS. 

Or ghastly furies* apparition. 

I pursed it up, but little reck'ning made, 

Till now that this extremity compell'd : 

But now I find it true ; for by this means 

I knew the foul enchanter though disguised, 

Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells, 

And yet came off: if you have this about you, 

(As I will give you when we go) you may 

Boldly assault the necromancer's hall ; 

Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 

And brandish'd blade rush on him, break his glass. 

And shed the luscious liquor on the ground. 

But seize his wand ; though he and his cursed crew 

Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 

Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke. 

Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 

I Br. Thyrsis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee. 
And some good Angel bear a shield before us. 

The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness ; soft music, 
tables spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an 
enchanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, which she puts by, and goes about to rise. 

Com. Nay, Lady, sit ; if I but wave this wand, 
Your nerves are all chain'd up in alabaster, 
And you a statue, or as Daphne was 
Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 

Lad. Fool, do not boast, 
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees good. 

Com. Why are you vext, Lady ? why do you frown ? 
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger ; from these gates 
Sorrow flies far : See, here be all the pleasures 
That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 
Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
And first behold this cordial julep here, 



COMUS. 507 

That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds, 

With spirits of balm, and fragrant syrups mix'd. 

Not that Nepenthes,^ which the wife of Thone 

In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 

Is of such power to stir up joy as this, 

To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 

Why should you be so cruel to yourself. 

And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent 

For gentle usage, and soft delicacy ? 

But you invert the covenants of her trust, 

And harshly deal, like an ill borrower. 

With that which you received on other terms ; 

Scorning the unexempt condition 

By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 

Refreshment after toil, ease after pain. 

That have been tired all day without repast, 

And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair Virgin, 

This will restore all soon. 

Lad. 'Twill not, false traitor, 
'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies. 
Was this the Cottage, and the safe abode 
Thou toldst me of? What grim aspects are these, 
These ugly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard me ! 
Hence with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver ; 
Hast thou betray'd my credulous innocence 
With visor'd falsehood and base forgery ? 
And would'st thou seek agair^ to trap me here 
With liquorish baits fit to ensnare a brute ? 
Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, 
I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none 
But such as are good men can give good things. 
And that which is not good, is not delicious 
To a well-govern'd and wise appetite. 

1 See Pope's Odyssey, IV. 301. Probably opium. 

^^- -^ 



^ -€7 

■ 
508 COMUS. 

Com. O foolishness of men ! that lend their ears 
To those budge ^ doctors of the Stoic fur, 
And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, 
Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence. 
Wherefore did nature pour her bounties forth, 
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, 
Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 
But all to please, and sate the curious taste? 
And set to work millions of spinning worms. 
That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd silk 
To deck her sons ; and that no corner might 
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
She hutch'd^ the all-worshipp'd ore, and precious gems, 
To store her children with : if all the world 
Should in a pet of temp'rance feed on pulse, 
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze. 
The All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unpraised, 
Not half his riches known, and yet despised ; 
And we should serve him as a grudging master. 
As a penurious niggard of his wealth ; 
And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons. 
Who would be quite surcharg'd with her own weight, 
And strangled with her waste fertility ; 
Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark'd with plumes, 
The herds would over-multitude their lords. 
The sea o'erfraught would swell, and th' unsought diamonds 
Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep. 
And so bestud with stars, that they below 
Would grow inured to light, and come at last 
To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 
List, Lady, be not coy, and be not cozen'd 
With that same vaunted name Virginity. 
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded 

1 Budge is lamb's fur, formerly an ornament of scholastic habits. ''■ Hoarded. 



COMUS. 509 

But must be current, and the good thereof 

Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, 

Unsavory in th' enjoyment of itself; 

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 

It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. 

Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 

In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, 

Where most may wonder at the workmanship ; 

It is for homely featureif to keep home, 

They had their name thence ; coarse complexions, 

And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply 

The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool. 

What need a vermeil- tinctured lip for that, 

Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 

There was another meaning in these gifts, 

Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet. 

Lad. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips 
In this unhallow'd air, but that this juggler 
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, 
Obtruding false rules prank'd in reason's garb. 
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, 
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature, 
As if she would her children should be riotous 
With her abundance ; she, good cateress. 
Means her provision only to the good. 
That live according to her sober laws. 
And holy dictate of spare temperance : 
If every just man, that now pines with want, 
Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury 
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
In unsuperfluous even proportion, 
And she no whit incumber'd with her store; 
And then the giver would be better thank'd, 

d^ ^ ^ 



f- ^ -^ 

510 COMUS, 

His praise due paid ; for swinish gluttony 

Ne'er looks to heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, 

But with besotted base ingratitude 

Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on ? 

Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 

Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 

Against the sun-clad power of Chastity, 

Fain would I something say, yet to what end ? 

Thou hast nor ear, nor soul to apprehend 

The sublime notion, and high mystery, 

That must be utter'd to unfold the sage 

And serious doctrine of Virginity, 

And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 

More happiness than this thy present lot. 

Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 

That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence. 

Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced ; 

Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth 

Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 

To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 

That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, 

And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake, 

Till all thy magic structures rear'd so high, 

Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. 

Com. She fables not, I feel that I do fear 
Her words set off by some superior power : 
And though not mortal, yet a cold shudd'ring dew 
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus, 
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble. 
And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more, 
This is mere moral babble, and direct 
Against the canon-laws of our foundation ; 
I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees 
And settlings of a melancholy blood : 
But this will cure all straight, one sip of this 

4) ■ ^ 



s ^ -<b 



511 



COMC/S. 

Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, 
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. — 

The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out of his hand, and break it against 
the ground ; his rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The attendant Spirit 
comes in. 

Spir. What, have you let the false enchanter 'scape ? 
O ye mistook, ye should have snatch'd his wand, 
And bound him fast; without his rod reversed, 
And backward mutters of dissevering power. 
We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
In stony fetters fix'd, and motionless : 
Yet stay, be not disturb'd : now I bethink me. 
Some other means I have which may be used, 
Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt, 
The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 

There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream, 
Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; 
Whilome she was the daughter of Locrine, 
That had the sceptre from his father Brute. 
She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 
Commended her fair innocence to the flood, 
That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course. 
The water nymphs that in the bottom play'd, 
Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall, 
Who piteous of her woes rear'd her lank head, 
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
In nectar'd lavers strow'd with asphodel. 
And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
Dropp'd in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 
And underwent a quick immortal change. 
Made Goddess of the river : still she retains 
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, 

^ ^ 



-^ 



512 COMUS. 

Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 

That the shrewd meddling elf delights to make, 

Which she with precious vial'd liquors heals. 

For which the shepherds at their festivals 

Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, 

And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 

Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 

And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 

The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell, 

If she be right invoked in warbled song, 

For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 

To aid a virgin, such as was herself, 

In hard-besetting need ; this will I try. 

And add the power of some adjuring verse. 

Song. 
Sabrina fair. 

Listen where thou art sitting 
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, 

In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair j 

Listen for dear honor's sake, 

Goddess of the silver lake, 
Listen and save. 
Listen and appear to us 
In name of great Oceanus, 
By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, 
And Tethys" grave majestic pace. 
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look. 
And the Carpathian wisard's hook'' 
By scaly Triton's* winding shell. 



1 The wife of Oceanus. 

* Proteus, who had a cave in Carpathus, an island of the Mediterranean. He was a 
wizard, a prophet, and Neptune's shepherd, and therefore held a crook. 

* Neptune's trumpeter. 



^ 



COMUS. 513 

And old soothsaying Glaucus'^ spell, 
By Leucothea's^ lovely hands, 
And her son that rules the strands,^ 
By Thetis'^ tinsel-slipper'd feet, 
And the songs of Sirens sweet. 
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, 
And fair Ligea's golden comb'^ 
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, 
Sleeking her soft alluring locks. 
By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
Upon thy streams with wily glance. 
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 
From thy coral-paven bed. 
And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
Till thou our summons answer'd have. 

Listen and save. 

Sabrina rises, attended by water-nymphs, and sings. 

By the rushy-fringed bank, 

Where grows the willow and the osier dank, 

My sliding chariot stays, 
Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
Of turkis blue, and emerald green, 

That in the channel strays ; 
Whilst from off the waters fleet, 
Thus I set my printless feet 
O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 

That bends not as I tread ; 
Gentle Swain, at thy request 

I am here. 

1 Glaucus, an excellent diver, was made a sea-god. He was a prophet, and is said to 
have taught Apollo to prophesy. 

2 Leucothea, i.e., the white goddess. She was Ino, who, flying from her mad husband, 
Alhamas, cast herself and her child into the sea. Neptune, at the entreaty of Venus, changed 
both into sea-deities, and gave her the new name of Leucothia. 

3 Palsemon, the infant in her arms when she sprang into the sea. 
* A sea-goddess, called by Homer, silver-footed. 

6 Parthenope and Ligea were two of the Syrens. 

33 



^ 



^ 



<^ 



5 14 COMUS. 

Sp. Goddess dear, 
We implore thy pow'rful hand 
To undo the charmed band 
Of true virgin here distrest. 
Through the force and through the wile 
Of unblest enchanter vile. 

Sabr. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
To help insnared chastity : 
Brightest Lady, look on me ; 
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
Drops that from my fountain pure 
I have kept of precious cure, 
Thrice upon thy finger's tip, 
Thrice upon thy rubied lip; 
Next this marble venom'd seat, 
Smear'd with gums of glutinous heat, 
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold: 
Now the spell hath lost his hold; 
And I must haste ere morning hour 
To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 

Sabrina descends, and the. Lady rises out of her seat 

Sp. Virgin, daughter of Locrine 
Sprung of old Anchises' line,^ 
May thy brimmed waves for this 
Their full tribute never miss 
From a thousand petty rills, 
That tumble down the snowy hills : 
Summer drouth, or singed air 
Never scorch thy tresses fair. 
Nor wet October's torrent flood 
Thy molten crystal fill with mud ; 
May thy billows roll ash()re 
The beryl, and the golden ore ; 
May thy lofty head be crown'd 

1 Locrine was the son of Brutus, the great-grandson of Eneas. 

(^ — — ^ 



a ^ 

COMUS. 515 

With many a tow'r and terrace round, 
And here and there thy banks upon 
With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 

Come, Lady, while Heav'n lends us grace. 
Let us fly this cursed place, 
Lest the sorcerer us entice 
With some other new device. 
Not a waste, or needless sound. 
Till we come to holier ground; 
I shall be your faithful guide 
Through this gloomy covert wide, 
And not many furlongs thence 
Ls your Father's residence, 
Where this night are met in state 
Many a friend to gratulate 
His wish'd presence, and beside 
All the swains that there abide. 
With jigs and rural dance resort; 
We shall catch them at their sport, 
And our sudden coming there 
Will double all their mirth and cheer ; 
Come, let us haste, the stars grow high. 
But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 

The Scene changes, presenting l^udlow town and the President's castle ; then come in 
country dancers, after them the attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers, and the Lady. 

Song. 
Sp. Back, Shepherds, back, enough your play, 
Till ne.xt sunshine holiday ; 
Here be without duck or nod 
Other trippings to be trod 
Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
As Mercury did first devise, 
With the mincing Dryades, 
On the lawns, and on the leas. 

This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother. 

Noble Lord, and Lady bright. 



■^ 



^ 



s- — -^ 



516 



COMUS. 

I have brought ye new delight, 
Here behold so goodly grown 
Three fair branches of your own ; 
Heav'n hath timely tried their youth, 
Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
And sent them here through hard assays 
With a crown of deathless praise, 
To triumph in victorious dance 
O'er sensual folly, and intemperance. 

The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguises. 

Sp. To the ocean now I fly, 
And those happy climes that lie 
Where day never shuts his eye, 
Up in the broad fields of the sky 
There I suck the liquid air 
All amidst the gardens fair, 
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
That sing about the golden tree :^ 
Along the crisped shades and bowers 
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring, 
The Graces, and the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 
Thither all their bounties bring ; 
There eternal Summer dwells. 
And west-winds, with musky wing, 
About the cedarn alleys fling 
Nard and cassia's balmy smells. 
Iris there with humid bow 
Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
Flowers of more mingled hue. 
Than her purfled scarf can show, 
And drenches with Elysian dew 
(List mortals, if your ears be true) 



1 The daughters of Hesperus, the brother of Atlas, had gardens or orchards, which 
produced apples of gold. 

ci^ : -^ 



^ 



COMUS. 517 



Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
Waxing well of his deep wound 
In slumber soft, and on the ground 
Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen ;^ 
But far above in spangled sheen 
Celestial Cupid her famed son advanced, 
Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranced, 
After her wand'ring labors long, 
Till free consent the Gods among 
Make her his eternal bride, 
And from her fair unspotted side 
Two blissful twins are to be born. 
Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 
But now my task is smoothly done, 
I can fly, or I can run 
Quickly to the green earth's end, 
Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend. 
And from thence can soar as soon 
To the corners of the moon. 

Mortals, that would follow me. 
Love Virtue, she alone is free, 
She can teach ye how to climb 
Higher than the sphery chime : 
Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
Heav'n itself would stoop to her. 



1 Venus; so called because she was worshipped by the Assyrians. See Ovid, Met. IX. 636. 



^ ^ 



s- ^ ^ 



LYCIDAS. 1637. 

In this Monody the author bewails a learned friend,^ unfortunately drowned in his pas- 
sage from Chester on the Irish seas, 1637 ; and by occasion foretells the ruin of our corrupted 
clergy, then in their height. 

Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more 

Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude. 

And with forced fingers rude, 

Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 

Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear. 

Compels me to disturb your season due: 

For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime. 

Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : 

Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew 

Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 

He must not float upon his watery bier 

Unwept, and welter to the parching wind. 

Without the meed of some inelodious tear. 

Begin then. Sisters of the sacred well, 

That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring. 

Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 

Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse. 

So may some gentle Muse 

With lucky words favor my destined urn, 

And as he passes turn, 

And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. 



1 Edward King, the friend of Milton, whose early death is bewailed in this poem, was the 
son of Sir John King, Secretary for Ireland under Elizabeth, James I..' Charles I. On his 
voyage to Ireland, to visit his family, his ship struck on a rock on the English coast, 
and he perished in the sea. He was distinguished for his piety and talents, and was a fellow 
of Christ Church, Cambridge. 



LVCIDAS. 519 

For we were nursed upon the self-same hill/ 
Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. 

Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 
Under the opening eyelids of the morn,^ 
We drove a field, and both together heard 
What time the gray- fly winds her sultry horn,' 
Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
Oft till the star that rose, at evening, bright. 
Toward heav'n's descent had sloped his west'ring wheel. 
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
Temper'd to the oaten flute, 

Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel 
From the glad sound would not be absent long, 
And old Damoetas^ loved to hear our song. 

But, O the heavy change, now thou art gone. 
Now thou art gone, and never must return ! 
Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves 
With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown. 
And all their echoes mourn. 
The willows, and the hazel copses green, 
Shall now no more be seen. 
Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 
As killing as the canker to the rose, 
Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, 
Or frost to flow'rs, that their gay wardrobe wear, 
When first the white-thorn blows ; 
Such, Lycidas, thy loss to Shepherd's ear. 

Where were ye. Nymphs, when the remorseless deep 
Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
For neither were ye playing on the steep. 
Where your old Bards, the famous Druids, lie,^ 

1 King was at Cambridge with Milton. 

2 See marginal reading of "Neither let it see the dawning of the day." Job iii. 9. 
. 3 The trumpet-fly. Its hum is loudest at noon. 

* Probably their tutor, Dr. Chappel. 

5 The Druids' sepulchres were at Kerig-y-Druidion, in the mountains of Denbighshire. 

^ & 



^ 



520 LYCIDAS. 

Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,^ 

Nor yet where Dcva spreads her wizard stream •? 

Ay me ! I fondly dream ! 

Had ye been there, for what could that have done ? 

What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,^ 

The Muse herself for her enchanting son, 

Whom universal nature did lament, 

When by the rout that made the hideous roar/ 

His gory visage down the stream was sent, 

Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore ? 

Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade. 
And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ? 
Were it not better done as others use. 
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade. 
Or with the tangles of Nesera's hair ? 
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 
(That last infirmity of noble mind) 
To scorn delights, and live laborious days; 
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 
Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, 
And slits the thin-spun life. " But not the praise," 
Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears ; 
" Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. 
Nor in the glist'ring foil 

Set off to th' world, nor in broad rumor lies ; 
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 
As he pronounces lastly on each deed, 
Of so much fame in heav'n expect thy meed." 



1 The Isle of Anglesea. 

2 The Dee, said by Spenser to be the haunt of magicians. These places were all near 
the Irish Sea, where I^ycidas embarked for Ireland. 

3 (Jalliope was the mother of Orpheus. 
* The Bacchanalians. 



-4^ 



a -^ 

LYCIDAS. 521 

O fountain Arethuse/ and thou honor'd flood, 
Smooth-sliding Mincius," crown'd with vocal reeds, 
That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
But now my oat proceeds, 
And listens to the Herald of the Sea 
That came in Neptune's plea ; 
He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, 
What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ? 
And question'd every gust of rugged wings 
That blows from off each beaked promontory : 
They knew not of his story. 
And sage Hippotades their answer brings,^ 
That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd, 
The air was calm, and on the level brine 
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. 
It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 
Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark 
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 

Next Camus,^ reverend sire, went footing slow, 
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge. 
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 
Like to that sanguine flow'r inscribed with woe.® 
Ah ! "Who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge ? 
Last came, and last did go. 
The pilot of the Galilean lake. 
Two massy keys he bore of metals twain," 
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain) 
He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake, 
How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,^ 
Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ! 

1 In Sicily. 2 Near Mantua. 

3 Eolus (the East Wind) was the son of Hippotades. ■* The Cam. 

5 The Hyacinth ; supposed to bear the letters Ai-Ai, put on it by Apollo in memory of his 
grief for Hyacinthus. 

6 "The pilot of the Galilean lake" is St. Peter, 
T King intended to take orders in the Church of England. 



^- ^ 

522 LYCIDAS. 

Of other care they little reckoning make, 

Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast, 

And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; 

Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to hold 

A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least 

That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! 

What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped ; 

And when they list, their lean and flashy songs 

Grate on their scrannel ^ pipes of wretched straw ; 

The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 

But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread ; 

Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw 

Daily devours apace, and nothing said ; 

But that two-handed engine at the door 

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. 

Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, 
That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, 
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
Their bells, and flow'rets of a thousand hues. 
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks : 
Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, 
That on the green turf suck the honied showers, 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, 
The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, 
The glowing violet. 

The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, 
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears : 
Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, 
And daffadillies fill their cups with tears. 



I ••Thin, lean, meagre. '—T. Warton. 

^ ' ^ 



a -^ 

LYCIDAS. 523 

To strow the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. 

For so to interpose a little ease, 

Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 

Ay me! Whilst thee the shores, and sounding seas 

Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd. 

Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 

Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide, 

Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous woild; 

Or whether thou to our moist vows denied, 

Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old/ 

Where the great vision of the guarded mount ^ 

Looks toward Namancos^ and Bayona's hold : 

Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth. 

And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. 

Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, 
For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead. 
Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor ; 
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. 
And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky; 
So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 
Thro' the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves. 
Where other groves, and other streams along, 
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
There entertain him all the saints above, 
In solemn troops, and sweet societies. 
That sing, and singing in their glory move, 
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. 
Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more ; 

' 1 Bellerus, a Cornish giant, from Bellerium. 
"i Mount St. Michael, near the Land's End, Cornwall. 

3 In an Atlas of 1623 1 and in a map of Gallicia, near Cape Finisterre, is marked a place 
called Namancos. In this map, also, is marked the Castle of Bayona. 



^ -^ 

524 LYCIDAS. 

Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore, 
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
To all that wander in that perilous flood. 

Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, 
While the still morn went out with sandals gray, 
He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, 
With eager thought warbling his doric lay : 
And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills. 
And now was dropp'd into the western bay ; 
At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue : 
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 



(^ ^ 



S Op 



SONNETS. 



I. 

TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 

O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray 
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, 
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, 
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. 

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day. 
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
Portend success in love.' O if Jove's will 
Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay, 

Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 

Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh ; 
As thou from year to year hast sung too late 

For my relief, yet hadst no reason why. 

Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate, 
Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 

II. 

ON HIS HAVING ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF 

TWENTY-THREE.^ 163 1. 

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, 
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year ! 

1 A superstition, which originated in Chaucer's "Cuckowe and Nightingale. 
" But as I lay this othir night waking, 

I thought how lovers had a tokining. 
And among 'hem it was a commerne tale 
That it were gode to here the Nightingale 
Moche rathir than the leude Cuckowe singe." 

Cuckowe and Nightingale. Stanza lo. 

2 This sonnet was written at Cambridge, and sent in a letter to a friend. 

(525) 

0^ _^ 



526 SONNETS. 

My hasting days fly on with full career, 

But my late spring no bud or blossom shovv'th. 

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 
That I to manhood am arrived so near ; 
And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. 

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow. 
It shall be still in strictest measure even, 
To that same lot, however mean or high, 

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven. 
All is, if I have grace to use it so, 
As ever in my great Task-master's eye. 

III. 

Donna leggiadra, il cui be] nome onora 
L' erbosa val di Reno e il nobil varco, 
Bene e colui d' ogni valore scarco 
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora, 

Che dolcemente mostrasi di fuora, 
De' sui atti soavi giammai parco, 
E i don', che son d' amor saette ed arco, 
La onde 1' alta tua virtii s' infiora. 

Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti, 
Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 
Guardi ciascun agli occhi ed agli orecchi 

L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno; 
Grazia sola di su gli vaglia, innanti 
Che '1 disio amoroso al cuor s' invecchi. 

IV. 

Qual in colle aspro, all' imbrunir di sera, 
L 'avezza giovinetta pastorella 
Va bagnando 1' erbetta strana e bella 
Che mal si spande a disusata spera 



c^ ^ 



SONNETS. 527 

Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, 

Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella 

Desta il fior novo di strania favella, 

Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera, 
Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso, 

E '1 bel Tamigi cangio col bell' Arno. 

Amor lo volse, ed io all' altrui peso 
Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno. 

Deh ! foss' il mio cuor lento e '1 duro seno 

A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. 



CANZONE. 

RiDONSi donne e giovani amorosi 
M' accostandosi attorno, e ' Perche scrivi, 
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana 
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t' osi ? 
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana, 
E de' pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi ! ' 
Cosi mi van burlando : ' altri rivi, 
Altri lidi t' aspettan, ed altre onde, 
Nelle cui verdi sponde 
Spuntati ad or ad or alia tua chioma 
L' immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondf. 
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma ? ' 
Canzon, dirotti, e tu per me rispondi : 
' Dice mia Donna, e '1 suo dir 6 il mio cuore, 
" Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore." ' 

V. 

DiODATi (e te '1 diro con maraviglia), 
Quel ritroso io, ch' amor spreggiar solea 
E de' suoi lacci spesso mi ridea, 
Gia caddi, ov' uom dabben talor s' impiglia- 



^ 



^ 



<b 



528 SONNETS. 

Ne treccie d' oro ne guancia vermiglia 
M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea 
Pellegrina bellezza che '1 cuor bea, 
Portamenti alti onesti, e nelle ciglia 

Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil nero, 
Parole adorne di lingua piij d'una, 
E '1 cantar che di mezzo 1' emispero 

Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna ; 

E degli occhi suoi avventa si gran fuoco 
Che r incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco. 

VI. 

Per certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia, 
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole ; 
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole 
Per 1' arene di Libia chi s' invia, 

Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) 
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, 
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole 
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia. 

Parte rinchiusa e turbida si cela 

Scossomi il petto, e poi n' uscendo poco 
Quivi d' attorno o s' agghiaccia o s' ingiela; 

Ma quanto agli occhi giunge a trovar loco 
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose, 
Finchd mia alba rivien colma di rose. 



^ 



VII. 

GiovANE, piano, e semplicetto amante, 
Poich6 fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono, 
Madonna, a voi del mio cuor 1' umil dono 
Faro divoto. Io certo a prove tante 

L' ebbi fedele, intrepido, costante, 

Di pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono. 
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono, 
S' arma di se, e d' intero diamante, 



^ 



^- 



SONNETS. 529 

Tanto del forse e d' invidia sicuro, 

Di timori, e speranze al popol use 

Quanto d' ingegno, e d' alto valor vago, 
E di cetra sonora, e delle Muse. 
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro 
Ove Amor mise 1' insanabil ago. 

VIII. 

WHEN THE A5SAULT WAS INTENDED TO 
THE CITY} 

1642. 

Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms, 

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, 

If deed of honor did thee ever please, 

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. 

He can requite thee; for he knows the charms 
That call fame on such gentle acts as these 
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, 
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 

Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower: 
The great Emathian conqueror " bid spare 
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tow'r 

Went to the ground ; and the repeated air 
Of sad Electra's poet^ had the pow'r 
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 



1 Written when the King's troops had arrived at Brentford, and London expected an im- 
mediate attack. 

2 Alexander. He suffered the house of Pindar alone to stand untouched ; and honored 
the family of the great lyric poet, while making frightful havoc of the Thebans. Milton 
claims the same favor from the royal forces. 

3 Euripides. When Lysander had taken Athens, Plutarch tells us that, — -'Some say he 
really did, in the Council of the Allies, propose to reduce the Athenians to slavery; and 
that Erianthus, a Theban officer, gave it as his opinion that the city should be levelled with 
the ground, and the spot on which it stood turned to pasturage. Afterwards, however, 
when the general officers met at an entertainment, a musician of Phocis happened to begin 
a chorus in the Electra' of Euripides, the first lines of which are these : — 

34 

^ -^ 



<b 



530 SONNETS. 



IX. 

TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY. 

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth 

Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green. 

And with those few art eminently seen, 

That labor up the hill of heavenly truth, 
The better part with Mary^ and with Ruth^ 

Chosen thou hast ; and they that overween. 

And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, 

No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. 
Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends 

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light ^ 

And hope that reaps not shame.* Therefore be sure 
Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastful friends 

Passes to bliss at the mid-hour of night, 

Hast gained thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. 

X. 

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.^ 1643. 

Daughter to that good Earl,'' once President 
Of England's Council, and her Treasury, 
Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee, 
And left them both, more in himself content, 

'Unhappy daughter of the great Atrides,* 
Thy straw-crowned palace I approach.' 
* Electra. 
«' The whole company were greatly movedat this incident, and could not help reflecting how 
barbarous a thing it would be to raze that noble city, which had produced so many great 
and illustrious men." — PLUTARCH, Life of Lysander. Thus Athens was spared, but in 
cruel mockery. The Spartan collected all the musicians in the city, and puiled down the 
fortificatious, and burned the Athenian ships, to the sound of their instruments. 

1 Luke X. 42. 2 Ruth i. 14. 

SMatt. XXV. 4. * Rom. V. 5. 

5 Milton used frequently to visit this lady, who married Captain Hobson, of the Isle of 
Wight. 

" Earl of Marlborough, Lord High Treasurer, and Lord President of the Council to King 
James I. Parliament was dissolved the loth of March, 1628-9 '< he died on the 14th, but 
at an advanced age. — Newton. 

■^ -^ 



s- 



^ 

SONNETS. 531 

Till the sad, breaking of that Parliament 

Broke him, as that dishonest victory 

At Chseronea, fatal to liberty, 

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent/ 
Though later born than to have known the days 

Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you. 

Madam, methinks I see him living yet ; 
So well your words his noble virtues praise. 

That all both judge you to relate them true, 

And to possess them, honor'd Margaret, 

XI. 

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY 
WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES. 

1645. 

A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,- 
And woven close, both matter, form, and style ; 
The subject new : it walk'd the town awhile, 
Numb'ring good intellects ; now seldom p'ored on. 

Cries the stall-reader, " Bless us ! what a word on 
A title-page is this!" and some in file 
Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile- 
End Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon, 

Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?^ 

Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek, 
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 



1 Isocrates, the orator, who could not survive the ruin of his country. Ch.aronea was 
gained by Philip of Macedon. 

2 Tetrachordon means exposition on the four chief places in Scripture which mention nul- 
lities in marriage. 

•^ Colkitto and Macdonnel are one and the same person, a brave officer on the royal side, 
an Irishman of the Antrim family, who served under Montrose. The Macdonnels of that 
family are styled, by way of disUnction, MacCoUcittok, i.e., descendents of lame Colin. 
Galasp is George Gillespie, a Scottish writer against the Independents; for whom see Milton's 
verses on the "Forcers of Conscience." — WART ON. 



C^ 



--& 



^ 



4- 



■ -^ 

532 SONNETS. 

Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheke/ 
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
When thou taught'st Cambridge and King Edward Greek. 

XII, 

ON THE SAME. 
I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs 

By the known rules of ancient liberty, 

When straight a barbarous noise environs me 

Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs ;^ 
As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs ^ 

Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny, 

Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 

But this is got by casting pearl to hogs, 
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 

And still revolt when truth would set them free. 

Licence they mean when they cry Liberty ; 
For who loves that must first be wise and good : 

But from that mark how far they rove we see, 

For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood/ 

XIII. 

ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE 
LONG PARLIAMENT. 1647. 

Because you have thrown off your Prelate Lord, 
And with stiff vows renounced his Liturgy, 
To seize the widowed whore Plurality 
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred, 

1 Sir John Cheke has been already named in the notes to this volume. He was the first 
Professor of Greek at Cambridge, and restored the original pronunciation of it. He was 
tutor to Edward VI. 

'•^Milton's treatises were on the subject of "Divorce." The Presbyterian clergy were 
much (and justly) scandalized at them, and brought Milton before the Lords for them ; but 
they thought the subject simply speculative, and he was discharged. He t'lus stigmatizes 
the Presbyterian clergy. 

^ See Ovid, Mel. VI. fab. iv. "Latona's progeny" where .Apollo and Diana, the sun god 
and moon goddess. * A fine moral, coming, too, from a Republican poet. 



4 



m; 



E> 



SONNETS. 533 

Dare you for this adjure the civil sword 

To force our consciences that Christ set free, 
And ride us with a Classic Hierarchy/ 
Taught ye by mere A. S." and Rutherford?^ 

Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent. 
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul 
Must now be named and printed heretics 

By shallow Edwards* and Scotch What-d'ye-call.'^ 
But we do hope to find out all your tricks. 
Your plots and packing, worse than those of Trent,*' 
That so the Parliament 

May with their wholesome and preventive shears 

Clip your phylacteries, though baulk your ears,'' 
And succor our just fears, 

When they shall read this clearly in your charge : 

New Presbyter is but old Priest writ large.^ 

XIV. 

TO MR. H. LAWES^ ON HIS AIRS. 

Harry, whose tuneful and well measured song 
First taught our English music how to span 
Words with just note and accent, not to scan 

1 In classes, or classical assemblies. The Presbyterians distributed London into twelve 
classes ; each chose two ministers and four lay elders to represent them in a Provincial 
Assembly. 

- Adam Stuart, a Polemical writer of the times, who answered the " Independents' 
Plea for Toleration." 

•* Samuel Rutherford, one of the Chief Commissioners of the Church of Scotland, andan 
avowed enemy to the Independents, Milton's sect. 

< Thomas Edwards, who wrote against the Independents. 

a Perhaps George Gillespie, a Scotch writer against the Independents. Milton hated the 
Scotch, and ridiculed their names. 

* The Council of Trent. 

~ Balk, or bauk, is to spare. The meaning is, " Your errors will be corrected, and your 
ears spared." Our readers will remember that the Star Chamber had inflicted the cruel 
punishment of loss of ears on Prynne. 

** More tyrannical than ot old. 

9 The musician who put the music to "Comus." 



^ 




^ 



534 SONNETS. 

With Midas' ears/ committing short and long ; ^ 
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 

With praise enough for envy to look wan ; 

To after age thou shalt be writ the man 

That with smooth air couldst humor best our tongue. 
Thou honor'st verse, and verse must send her wing 

To honor thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, 

That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story .^ 
Dante shall give fame leave to set thee higher 

That his Casella,'* whom he woo'd to sing, 

Met in the milder shades of Purgatory. 

XV. 

ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHERINE 

THOMSON,-' 

MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED i6tH DECEMBER, 1 646. 

When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, 
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth sever. 

Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavor, 
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; 
But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod. 
Folio w'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 



1 Midas, a King of Phrygia. He decided that Pan was superior in singing and playing 
on the flute to Apollo ; and, to punish his stupidity, Apollo changed his ears into those 
of an ass. 

■■'A Latinism, meaning offences against quantity. — RICHARDSON. 

3 The "Story of Ariadne," set by Lawes. — Warton. 

* Amongs'. the souls in Purgatory, Dante recognizes his friend Casella, the musician. In 
the course of an affectionate conversation, Dante asks for a song to soothe him, and Casella 
sings, with ravishing sweetness, the poet's second Canzone. See second cant, of Dante's 
"Purgatorio." 

5 When Milton was first made Latin Secretary to Cromwell, he lodged at a Mr. Thom- 
son's, next to the "'Bull Head" Tavern, Charing Cross. Mrs. Thomson is supposed to 
have been the wife of his landlord. — Newton. 



■-W 



^ 



SONNETS. 535 

Love led them on ; and Faith, who knew them best 
Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beams 
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 

And speak the truth of thee on glorious themes 
Before the Judge ; who thenceforth bid thee rest 
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 

XVI. 

ON THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX, AT THE SIEGE 

OF COLCHESTER.^ 

1648. 

Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, 
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze 
And rumors loud that daunt remotest kings, 

Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 

Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays 
Her broken league ^ to imp their serpent wings. 

O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 

(For what can war but endless war still breed ?) 
Till truth and right from violence be freed, 

And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand 
Of public fraud. In vain doth valor bleed, 
While Avarice and Rapine share the land. 

xvii. 
TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL, MAY, 1652. 

ON THE PROPOSALS OF CERTAIN MINISTERS AT THE COMMITTEE FOR 
PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL. 

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud, 
Not of war only, but detractions rude, 

1 Addressed to Fairfax at the siege of Colchester. It was first printed, together with the 
two following sonnets, and the two to Cyriack Skinner, at the end of Phillips's "Life of 
Milton " 1694. — Warton. 

2 The English Parliament held that the Scotch had broken their covenant by marching 
iato England, led by Hamilton. 



s 

„ 

536 SONNETS. 

Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed, 

And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud 

Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued, 
While Darwen stream,^ with blood of Scots imbrued, 
And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud, 

And Worcester's laureate^ wreath: yet much remains 
To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories 
No less renowned than War : new foes arise, 

Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains.^ 
Help us to save free conscience from the paw 
Of hireling wolves, whose Gospel is their maw. 

XVIII. 

TO SIR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER.* 

Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old, 
Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms, repelled 
The fierce Epirot and the African bold. 

Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 

The drift of hollow states^ hard to be spelled; 
Then to advise how war may best, upheld, 
Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, 

In all her equipage; besides, to know 

Both spiritual power and civil, what each means, 

What severs each, thou hast learned, which few have done. 

The bounds of either sword to thee we owe : 
Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans 
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son. 



<b 



1 A small river near Preston, in Lancashire, where Cromwell defeated the Scots under the 
Duke of Hamilton, in August, 1648. 

•^ Dunbar and Worcester were both fought September 3— one 1650, the other 1651. 

3 He alludes to the Presbyterian clergy. They tried to persuade Cromwell to use the 
secular power against Sectaries. 

* This sonnet seems to have been written in behalf of the Independents against the Presby- 
terian hierarcliy. Vane was the chief of the Independents, and therefore Milton's friend. 
He was a most eccentric character, a mixture of the wildest fanaticism and good sense. He 
was beheaded after the Restoration. 1662.— Warton. ^ The States of Holland. 

4}- ^ ^ 



f 



^ 



SONNETS. 537 

XIX. 

ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT.^ 
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 

Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold ; 

Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 

When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 
Forget not : in thy book record their groans 

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 

Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that rolled 

Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 

To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow 

O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
The triple Tyrant;^ that from these may grow 

A hundredfold, who having learnt thy way 

Early may fly the Babylonian woe.^ 

XX. 

ON HIS BLINDNESS. 
When I consider how my light is spent 

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, 

And that one talent which is death to hide. 

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
To serve therewith my Maker, and present 

My true account, lest he returning chide, 

" Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? " 

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent 

1 In 1665 the duke of Savoy determined to madehis reformed subjects in Piedmont return 
to the Roman Church. All who refused compliance with the sovereign's will vvere massa- 
cred. Those who escaped, concealed in their mountain fastnesses, sent to Cromweil (oi 
relief. Milton's holy indignation found expression in this fine sonnet, which wasofgre.u 
effect.' Cromwell commanded a general fast, and a national contribution for the relief of 
the sufferers ^^40, 000 were collected. He then wrote to the Duke ; and so great was the 
terror of the Lnglish name — the Protector threatened that his ships should visit Civita Vec- 
chia — that the persecution was stopped, and the surviving inhabitants of the valleys were 
restored to their homes and to freedom of worship. 

^ The Pope, ^ The Papacy. 

4- — t^ 



s- 



538 SONNETS. 

That murmur, soon replies, " God doth not need 
Either man's work, or his own gifts. Who best 
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state 

Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed. 
And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
They also serve who only stand and wait." 

XXI. 

TO MR. LAWRENCE.' 

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son. 

Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, 
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 

From the hard season gaining? Time will run 
On smoother, till Favonius^ re-inspire 
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. 

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, 
Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 
To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice 

Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air ? 

He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
To interpose them oft, is not unwise. 

XXII. 

TO CYRIACK SKINNER. 

Cyriack, whose grandsire^ on the royal bench 
Of British Themis, with no mean applause, 
Pronounced and in his volumes taught, our laws, 
Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 

1 Son of Henry Lawrence Member for Hertfordshire, who was active in settling the Pro- 
tectorate on Cromwell. Milton's friend was the author of a work called "Of our Com- 
munion and Warre with Angels," &c., 1646. 4to. — Todd. 

•■' The West Wind. 

' Lord Coke. Cyriac Skinner was the =on of William Skinner and Bridget, daughter of 
Lord Coke. He had been a pupil of Milton's, and was one of the principal members of 
Harrington's Political Club. 



4> 



SONNETS. 539 

To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 

In mirth, that after no repenting draws ; 

Let Euchd rest, and Archimedes pause, 

And what the Swede ^ intend, and what the French. 
To measure Hfe learn thou betimes, and know 

Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ; 

For other things mild Heaven a time ordains, 
And disapproves that care, though wise in show, 

That with superfluous burden loads the day, 
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 

XXIII. 

TO THE SAME. 
Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, though clear. 

To outward view, of blemish or of spot. 

Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; 

Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year. 

Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 

Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 

Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer 
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? 

The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 

In Liberty's defence,^ my noble task. 
Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 

This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask 

Content, though blind, had 1 no better guide.^ 



1 Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden, was then at war with Poland, and the Frer.ch were 
fighting the Spaniards in the Netherlands. 

'^ When Milton was engaged to answer Salmasius one of his eyes had nearly lost its sight. 
The physicians predicted the loss ot both, if he used them. But Milton told Du Moulin, ''I 
did not long balance whether my duty should be preferred to my eyes." 

■' The celebrated controversy with Salmasius originated thus: Charles II. employed that 
gieit scholar tc write a "Defence of Monarchy" and to vindicate his father's memory. 
Salmasius was the greatest scholar of his age. Grotious only could compete with him. ■ 
Selden speaks of him as "most admirable." The Council of the Commonwealth, there- 
fore, did wisely in ordering Milton to answer him. How he did so at the price of his sight 
we see above. 

^ -4^ 



s- 



-^ 



540 SONNETS. 

XXIV. 

ON HIS DECEASED WIFE.^ 

Methought I saw my late espoused saint 
Brought to me like Alcestis^ from the grave, 
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, 
Rescued from Death by force, though pale and faint. 

Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint 
Purification in the Old Law did save ; 
And such as yet once more I trust to have 
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, 

Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. 
Her face was veiled ; yet to my fancied sight 
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 

So clear, as in no face with more delight. 
But oh ! as to embrace me she inclined, 
I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night. 



1 Catherine, the daughter of Captain Woodcock, of Hackney. She died in giving birth 
to a daughter, a year after her marriage. She was Milton's second wife. 

2 Alcestis, being told by an oracle that her husband, Admetus, could never lecover from 
a disease unless a friend died for him, willingly laid down her life for him. Hercules, 
"Jove's great son," brought her back from hell. 



C^ --^ 



-^ 



TRANSLA TIONS. 541 



Translations. 

THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE. LIB. I., 

Quis miilta gracilis te puer in rosa. 

Rendered almost word for word, without rhyme, according to the Latin measure, as near 

as the language will permit. 

What slender youth, bedewed with liquid odors, 
Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, 

Pyrrha? For whom bind'st thou 

In wreaths thy golden hair, 
Plain in thy neatness ? Oh, how oft shall he 
On faith and changed gods complain, and seas 

Rough with black winds and storms 

Unwonted shall admire, 
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold; 
Who always vacant, always amiable, 

Hopes thee, of flattering gales 

Unmindful ! Hapless they 
To whom thou untried seem'st fair ! Me, in my vowed 
Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 

My dank and dropping weeds 

To the stern God of Sea. 

[As Milton inserts the original with his translation, as if to challenge comparison, it is right 
that we should do so too.] 

AD PYRRHAM. ODE V. 

Horatius ex Pyrrhas illecebris tanquam e naufragio enataverat, cujus amore irretitos affirmat 

esse miseros. 

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa 
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus 
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro ? 



% 



^ 



542 TRANSLATIONS. 

Cui flavam religas comam 
Simplex munditie? Heu, quoties fidem 
Mutatosque Deos flebit, et aspera 
Nigris aequora ventis 
Emirabitur insolens, 
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea ; 
Qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem, 
Sperat, nescius aurae 

Fallacis! Miseri quibus 
Intentata nites. Me tabula sacer 
Votiva paries indicat uvida 
Suspendisse potenti 
Vestimenta maris Deo. 

-C30E:- ►o-yV^' <33g>- 

Apnl. 1648.— J. M. 

Nine of the Psalms done into Metre ; wherein all, but what is in a different character, are 

the very words of the Text, translated from the original. 

PSALM LXXX. 

1 Thou Shepherd that dost Israel keep, 
Give ear in time of need. 

Who leadest like a flock of sheep 

Thy loved Joseph's seed, 
That sitt'st between the Cherubs bright, 

Betivcen their wings outspread ; 
Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light, 

And on our foes thy dread. 

2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 
And in Manasseh's sight, 

Awake ' thy strength, come, and be seen 
To save us by thy might. 

3 Turn us again ; thy grace divine 
To us, O God, vouchsafe ; 

Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
And then wc shall be safe. 



i Gnorera. 



^ 



s-- 



TRANSLATIONS. 543 

4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou, 

How long wilt thou declare 
Thy ' smoking wrath, and angry brow, 
Against thy people's prayer ? 

5 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears; 

Their bread with tears they eat; 
And mak'st them largely ^ drink the tears 
Wherewith their cheeks are wet. 

6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey 

To every neighbor foe ; 
Among themselves they^ laugh, they ^ play. 
And ^ flouts at us they throw. 

7 Return us, and thy grace divine, 

O God of Hosts, vouchsafe ; 
Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
And then we shall be safe. 

8 A Vine from Egypt thou hast brought, 

Tliy free love made it thine. 
And drov'st out nations proud and haut^ 
To plant this lovely Vine. 

9 Thou didst prepare for it a place, 

And root it deep and fast, 

That it began to grow apace. 

And filled the land at last. 

10 With \iQr green shade that covered all 

The hills were overspread ; 
Her boughs as Jngh as cedars tall 
Advanced their lofty head. 

1 1 Her branches on the western side 

Down to the sea she sent. 

And upward to that river wide 

Her other branches zvent. 

12 Why hast thou laid her hedges low, 

And broken down her fence, 

1 Gnashanta. 2 Shalish. 3 Jiignagu. 



4 



^ 



<b 



544 



TRANSLATIONS. 

That all may pluck her, as they go, 
IVtt/i rjidest violence? 

13 The tJiskedhoaLV out of the wood 

Upturns it by the roots ; 
Wild beast there browse, and make their food 
Her grapes and tender shoots. 

14 Return now, God of Hosts; look down 

From Heaven, thy seat divine ; 
Behold Jis, but without a/roivn, 
And visit this thy Vine. 

15 Visit tnis Vine, which thy right hand 

Hath set, and planted long, 
And the young branch, that for thyself 
Thou hast made firm and strong. 

16 But now it is consumed with fire, 

And cut zuith axes down ; 
They perish at thy dreadful ire, 
At thy rebuke and frown. 

17 Upon the Man of thy right hand 

Let thy good hand be laid ; 
Upon the Son of Man, whom thou 
Strong for thyself hast made. 

18 So shall we not go back from thee 

To ivays of sin and shame ; 
Quicken us thou ; then gladly we 
Shall call upon thy Name. 

19 Return us, and thy grace divine, 

Lord God of Hosts, vouchsafe : 
Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
And then we shall be safe. 

PSALM LXXXL 
I To God our strength sing loud and clear ; 
Sing loud to God our King ; 
To Jacob's God, that all may hear, 
Loud acclamations ring. 



<^ 



-^ 



f^ 



^. 



TRANSLATIONS. 

2 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song ; 

The timbrel hither bring ; 
The cheerful psaltery bring along, 
And harp ivith pleasant string. 

3 BIoM^, as is wo7it, in the new moon, 

With trumpets' lofty sound. 
The appointed time, the day whereon 
Our solemn feast comes roimd. 

4 This was a statute given of old 

For Israel to observe, 
A law of Jacob's God to hold. 

From whence they might not swerve. 

5 This he a testimony ordained 

In Joseph, not to change, 
When as he passed through Egypt-land 
The tongue I heard was strange. 

6 From burden, and from slavish toil, 

I set his shoulder free; 
His hands from pots, and miry soil. 
Delivered were by me. 

7 When trouble did thee sore assail, 

On me then didst thou call, 
And I to free thee did not fail. 

And led thee ant of thrall. 
I answered thee in ^ thunder deep. 

With clouds encompassed round ; 
I tried thee at the water steep 

Of Meriba renowned. 

8 Hear, O my people, heaj-ken well: 

I testify to thee. 
Thou ancient stock ^Israel, 
If thou wilt list to me: 

9 Throughout the land of thy abode 

No alien God shall be, 



54: 



^ 



546 TRANSLATIONS. 

Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
In honor bend thy knee. 

10 I am the Lord thy God, which brought 

Thee out of Egypt-land ; 
Ask large enough, and I, besought. 
Will grant thy full demand. 

1 1 And yet my people would not hcar^ 

Nor hearken to my voice ; 
And Israel, ivJioin I loved so deary 
Misliked me for his choice. 

12 Then did I leave them to their will, 

And to their wandering mind ; 
Their own conceits they followed still 
Their own devices blind. 

1 3 Oh that my people would be zvise. 

To serve me all their days ! 

And oh that Israel would advise 

To walk my righteous ways ! 

14 Then would I soon bring down their foes. 

That 7101V so proudly rise. 
And turn my hand against all those 
That are their enemies. 

15 Who hate the Lord should then be Jain 

To bow to him and bend ; 
But they, his people, should remain ; 
Their time should have no end. 

16 And he would feed them/r^;;^ the shock 

With flour of finest wheat, 

And satisfy them from the rock 

With honey /<?r their meat. 

PSALM LXXXII. 

I God in the ' great ^ assembly stands 
Of kings^and lordly states ; 
^ Among the gods ^ on both his hands 

1 Bagnadath-el. ^ Bekerev. 



4 



^tr- 



^ 



TRANSLATIONS. 547 

He judges and debates. 

2 How long will ye ^ pervert the right 
With ^ judgment false and wrong, 

Favoring the wicked dj your might, 
Who tlience grozv bold and strong ? 

3 " Regard the ^ weak and fatherless ; 
^ Despatch the ' poor man's cause ; 

And ^ raise the man in deep distress 
By ^ just and equal laws. 

4 Defend the poor and desolate, 
And rescue from the hands 

Of wicked men the low estate 
Of him that help demands. 

5 They know not, nor will understand ; 
In darkness they walk on ; 

The earth's foundations all are * moved, 
And* out of order gone. 

6 I said that ye were gods, yea all 
The sons of God Most High ; 

7 But ye shall die like men, and fall 
As other princes die. 

Rise, God ; ^judge thou the earth in might; 

This zvicked earth ^ redress ; 
For thou art he who shalt by right 

The nations all possess. 

PSALM LXXXIII. 

1 Be not thou silent now at length; 
O God hold not thy peace: 

Sit thou not still, O God of strength ; 
We cry and do not cease, 

2 For lo! thy furious foes nozv ^ swell, 
And " storm outrageously ; 

And they that hate thee, proud and felly 

1 Tishphetu gnavel. 2 Shiphtudal. ' Hatzdiku. 

* Jimmotu. 5 Shiphta. 6 Jehemajun. 

4> ^ 



^ 



^ 



548 TRANSLATIONS. 

Exalt their heads full high. 

3 Against thy people they ' contrive 

^ Their plots and counsels (leer. ; 

^ Them to ensnare they chiefly strive 

^ Whom thou dost hide and keep. 

4 "Come, let us cut them off," say they, 

" Till they no nation be ; 
That Israel's name for ever may 
Be lost in memory." 

5 For they consult '' with all their might. 

And all as one in mind 
Themselves against thee they unite, 
And in firm union hind. 

6 The tents of Kdom, and the brood 

Of scornful Ishmael, 
Moab, with them of Hagar's blood, 
That in the desert dzvcll, 

7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire^ 

And hatefid Amalec, 
The Philistines, and they of Tyre. 
Whose bounds the sea doth check. 

8 With them great Ashur also bands. 

And doth confirm the knot ; 
All these have lent their armed hands 
To aid the sons of Lot. 

9 Do to them as to Pvlidian bold, 

That wasted all the coast ; 
To Sisera, and as is told 

Thou didst to Jabin's fiost. 
When at the brook of Kishon old 
They were repulsed and slain, 
10 At Endor quite cut off, and rolled 
As dung upon the plain. 



Jagnarimu. 
' Tsephuneca. 



2 Sod. 



3 Jithjagnatsu gnal. 
* Lev jachdau. 



<# 



4 



^ 



TRANSLATIONS. 549 

11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped, 

So let their princes speed ; 
, As Zeba and Zalmunna bicd. 
So let their princes bleed. 

1 2 For they amidst their pride have said, 

" By right now shall we seize 
God's houses, and zvill noiv invade 
^ Their stately palaces." 

13 My God, oh make them as a wheel ; 

No quiet let thevi find ; 
Giddy and restless let them reel^ 
Like stubble from the wind. 

14 As, when an aged wood takes fire 

Which on a sudden strays., 
The greedy flame runs higher and higher, 
Till all the mountains blaze ; 

15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, 

And with thy tempest chase ; 

16 ^And till they^ yield the honor due. 

Lord, fill with shame their face. 

17 Ashamed and troubled let them be, 

Troubled and shamed for ever, 
Ever confounded, and so die 
With shame, and scape it never. 

18 Then shall they know that thou, whose name 

Jehovah is, alone 
Art the Most High, and thou the same 
O'er all the earth art One. 

PSALM LXXXIV. 
I How lovely are thy dwellings fair ! 

O Lord of Hosts how dear * 

The pleasant tabernacles are 
JVhere thou dost dwell so near I 

1 t^eoth Elohim bears both. 2 They seek thy name : Hcb, 



^ 



^ -O:, 



cr7 

550 TRANSLATIONS. 

2 My soul doth long and almost die 
Thy courts, O Lord, to see ; 

My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
O living God, for thee. 

3 There even the spa.\ row, freed /rom wrong. 
Hath found a house of rest ; 

The swallow there, to lay her young. 
Hath built her brooding nest ; 

Even by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 
They find their safe abode ; 

And home they fly from found the coasts 
Toward thee, my King, my God. 

4 Happy who in thy house reside, 
Where thee they ever praise ! 

5 Happy whose strength in thee doth bide. 
And in their hearts thy ways 1 

6 They pass through Baca's thirsty vale, 
That dty and barren ground^ 

As through a fruitful watery dale 
Where springs and showers abound. 

7 They journey on from strength to strength 
With Joy and gladsome cheer. 

Till all before our God at length 
In Si on do appear. 

8 Lord God of Hosts, hear noiu my prayer, 
O Jacob's God, give ear : 

9 Thou, God, our shield, look on the face 
Of thy anointed dear. 

10 For one day in thy courts to be 

Is better and more blest 
Than in the joys of vanity 

A thousand days at best 
I in the temple of my God 

Had rather keep a door 
Than dwell in tents arid rich abode 

With sin for evermore. 



^ 





h . ' 1 ' 


^ 


J 




^^ 






TRANSLATIONS. 


551 \ 






1 1 For God, the Lord, both sun and shield, 




i 






Gives grace and glory brigJit ; 










No good from them shall be withheld 




i 






Whose ways are just and right. 










12 Lord God of Hosts that reig7i^st on high. 










That man is tndy blest 










Who o)ily on thee doth rely, 










And in thee only rest. 










PSALM LXXXV. 










I Thy land to favor graciously 




1 






Thou hast not, Lord, been slack ; 










Thou hast from hard captivity 








Returned Jacob back. 










2 The iniquity thou didst forgive 










That wrought thy people woe, 




1 






And all their sin tfutt did thee grieve 










Hast hid where none shall know. 










3 Thine anger all thou hadst removed. 










And calmly didst return 










From thy ' fierce wrath, which we had proved 










Far worse than fire to burn. 










4 God of our saving health and peace, 




■ 






Turn us, and us restore; 










Thine indignation cause to cease 










Toward us, and chide no more. 










5 Wilt thou be angry without end, 










For ever angry thus ? 








Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 








From age to age on us ? 








6 Wilt thou not^ turn and hear our voice. 








And thus again ^ revive. 








That so thy people may rejoice. 


\ 






By thee preserved alive ? 






I Heb.: The burning heat of thy wrath. 2 Heb.: Turn to quicken us. 






1- 




r 


::i 


V •■ vj 



s ^ 

552 TRANSLATIONS. 

7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord ; 
To us thy mercy shew ; 

Thy saving health to us afford, 
And life m us reneiv. 

8 And now what God the Lord will speak 
I will go straight and hear, 

For to his people he speaks peace. 

And to his sdiints full dear ; 
To his dear saints he will speak peace ; 

But let them never more 
Return to folly, but surcease 

To trespass as before. 

9 Surely to such as do him fear 
Salvation is at hand. 

And glory shall ere long appear 
To dwell within our land. 

10 Mercy and Truth, that long were missed, 
^ovi joyfully are met; 

Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kissed. 
And hand in hand are set. 

1 1 Truth from the earth like to a flower 
Shall bud and blossom then ; 

And Justice from her heavenly bower 
Look down on mortal men. 

12 The Lord will also then bestow 
Whatever thing is good; n 

Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
Her fruits to be our food. 

13 Before him Righteousness shall go, 
His royal harbinger : 

Then^ will he come, and not be slow; 
His footsteps cannot err. 

^ Beb.: He will set his steps to the way. 



4^- 



a ^ 

TRANSLATIONS. 553 

PSALM LXXXVI. 

1 Thy gracious ear, O Lord, incline ; 

hear me, / thee pray; 
For I am poor and almost pine 

With need and sad decay. 

2 Preserve my soul ; for 'I have trod 
Thy ways, and love the just; 

Save thoa thy servant, O my God, 
Who still in thee doth trust. 

3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 

1 call ; 4 Oh make rejoice 
Thy servant's soul ! for, Lord, to thee 

I lift my soul and voice. 

5 For thou art good ; thou, Lord, art prone 
To pardon ; thou to all 

Art full of mercy, thou alone^ 
To them that on thee call. 

6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 
Give ear, and to the cry 

Of my incessant prayers afford : ; 

Thy hearing graciously. > 1 

7 I in the day of my distress • 
Will call on thee y^r aid ; 

For thou wilt grant va^free access^ 
And answer what I prayed. 

8 Like thee among the gods is none, 

Lord ; nor any works 
Of all that other gods have done 

Like to thy glorious works. 

9 The nations all whom thou hast made 
Shall come, a7id all shall frame 

To bow them low before thee. Lord, 
And glorify thy name. 

1 Heb.: I am good, loving, a doer of good and holy things. 

^ 



^ ^ 

554 TRANSLATIONS. 



10 For great thou art, and wonders great 

By thy strong hand are done ; 
Thou zu thy everlasting seat 
Remainest God alone. 

1 1 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most rigJit^ 

I in thy truth will bide ; 
To fear thy name my heart unite ; 
So shall it never slide. 

12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, 

Thee honor and adore 
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
Thy name for evermore. 

13 For great thy mercy is toward me. 

And thou hast freed my soul, 
Ev'n from the lowest hell set free, 
From deepest darTzness fold. 

14 O God, the proud against me rise, 

And violent men are met 
To seek my life, and in their eyes 
No fear of thee have set. 

15 But thou. Lord, art the God most mild, 

Readiest thy grace to shew, 
Slow to be angry, and art styled 
Most merciful, most true. 

16 Oh turn to me thy face at length, 

And me have mercy on ; 
Unto thy servant give thy strength, 
And save thy handmaid's son. 

17 Some sign of good to me afford. 

And let my foes then see. 
And be ashamed, because thou, Lord, 
Dost help and comfort me. 

PSALM LXXXVIL 
I Among the holy mountains high 
Is his foundation fast ; 



4> 



TRANSLATIONS. 555 

There seated in his sanctuary. 
His temple there is placed. 

2 Sion'sy^zr gates the Lord loves more 

Than all the dwellings y^/r 
Of Jacob's land though there be store. 
And all within his care. 

3 City of God, most glorious things 

Of thee abroad are spoke. 
I mention Egypt, where prond kings 
Did our forefathers yoke ; 

4 I mention Babel to my friends, 

Philistia/}/// of scorn, 
And Tyre, with Ethiop's utmost ends. .* 
Lo ! this man there was born. 

5 But twice that praise shall in our ear 

Be said of Sion /^j/.- 
This and this man was born in her; 
High God shall fix her fast. 

6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll. 

That ne'er shall be out-worn, 
When he the nations doth enroll, 
That this man there was born. 

7 Both they who sing and they who dance 

With sacred songs are there ; 
In thee/zT^// brooks and soft streams glattce^ 
And all my fountains clear. 

PSALM LXXXVin. 

1 Lord God, that dost me save and keep, 

All day to thee I cry, 
And all night long before thee weep., 
Before thee prostrate lie. 

2 Into thy presence let my prayer, 

With sighs devout, asceyid ; 
And to my cries that ceaseless are^ 
Thine ear with favor bend. 



^ 



<b 



556 TRANSLATIONS. 

3 For, cloyed with woes and trouble store, 

Surcharged my soul doth lie ; 
My life, at death's iinchccrfiil door. 
Unto the grave draws nigh. 

4 Reckoned I am with them that pass 

Down to the dismal pit ; 

I am a ^man but weak, alas ! 

And for that name unfit, 

5 From life discharged and parted quite 

Among the dead to sleep, 
And like the slain in bloody Jight 

That in' the grave lie deep; 
Whom thou rememberest no more, 

Dost never more regard : 
Them, from thy hand delivered o'er. 

Death's hideous Jioiise liath barred. 

6 Thou, in the lowest pit pro/ou;id, 

Hast set me all forlorn. 
Where thickest darkness hovers roimd, 
In horrid deeps to mourn. 

7 Thy wrath, //"^w ivhich no shelter saves., 

Full sore doth press on me ; 
^Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, 
^And all thy waves break me. 

8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, 

And mak'st me odious. 
Me to them odious, /£?r they cliange. 
And I here pent up thus. 

9 Through sorrow and affliction great 

Mine eye grows dim and dead ; 
Lord all the day I thee entreat. 
My hands to thee I spread. 
10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead ? 
Shall the deceased arise 



1 Heb.: A man without manly strength. 



* The Hebrew bears both. 



^ 



-P 



^ 



^ 



TRANSLATIONS. 557 



And praise ^etfrom their loathsome bed 
With pale and hollow eyes ? 
• 1 1 Shall they thy loving kindness tell 
On whom the grave hath hold? 
Or they who in perdition dwell 
Thy faithfulness Jinfold? 
1 2 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
Or wondrous acts be known ? 
Thy justice in \he gloomy land 
Of dark oblivion ? 
13 But I to thee, O Lord, do cry 
Ere yet my life be speyit ; 
And up to thee my prayer doth hie 
Each morn, and thee prevent. 

14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my soul forsake 
And hide thy face from me, 

15 That am already bruised, and^ shake 
With terror sent from thee ; 

Bruised and afflicted, and so low 

As ready to expire, 
While I thy terrors undergo, 

Astonished with thine ire ? 

16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow; 
Thy threatenings cut me through : 

17 All day they round about me go ; 
Like waves they me pursue. 

18 Lover and friend thou hast removed, 
And severed from me far : 

Theyyfy me 7iow whom I have loved. 
And as in darkness are. 

PSALM L 
Done into verse 1653. 
Blest is the man who hath not walked astray 
In counsel of the wicked, and i' the way 

1 Heb,\ Pros concussione. 

<^ -A 



^ -^ 

558 TRANSLATIONS. 

Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
Of scorners hath not sat; but in the great 
Jehovah's Law is ever his dehght, 
And in his law he studies day and night. 
He shall be as a tree which planted grows 
By watery streams, and in his season knows 
To yield his fruit ; and his leaf shall not fall; 
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 
Not so the wicked ; but, as chaff which fanned 
The wind drives, so the -wicked shall not stand 
In judgment, or abide their trial then, 
Nor sinners in the assembly of just men. 
For the Lord knows the upright way of the just 
And the way of bad men to ruin must. 

PSALM II. 
Done A ugnst 8 , 1653. — Terzetti. 
Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 

Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand 

With power, and princes in their congregations 
Lay deep their plots together through each land 

Against the Lord and his Messiah dear ? 

" Let us break off," say they, " by strength cf hand, 
Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, 

Their twisted cords." He who in heaven doth dwell 

Shall laugh; the Lord shall scoff them, then severe 
Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 

And fierce ire trouble them. " But I," saith he, 

" Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
On Sion my holy hill." A firm decree 

I will declare : the Lord to me hath said, 

" Thou art my Son ; I have begotten thee 
This day ; ask of me, and the grant is made : 

As thy possession I on thee bestow 

The Heathen, and, as thy conquest to be swayed. 
Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low 

With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse 

<^ e 



^ 



TRANSLATIONS. 559 

Like to a potter's vessel shivered so." 
And now be wise at length, ye kings averse ; 

Be taught, ye judges of the earth; with fear 

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
With trembling; kiss the Son, lest he appear 

In anger, and ye perish in the way, 

If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. 
Happy all those who have in him their stay. 

PSALM III. 

August 9, 1653. 
When he fled from Absalom. 
Lord, how many are my foes ! 
How many those 
That in arms against me rise ! 

Many are they 
That of my life distrustfully thus say, 
" No help for him in God there lies." 
But thou. Lord, art my shield, my glory ; 
Thee, through my story, 
The exalter of my head I count : 

Aloud I cried 
Unto Jehovah ; he full soon replied, 
And heard me from his holy mount. 
I lay and slept ; I \vaked again : 
For my sustain 
Was the Lord. Of many millions 

The populous rout 
I fear not, though, encamping round about, 
They pitch against me their pavilions. 
Rise, Lord ; save me. my God ! for thou 
Hast smote ere now 
On the cheek-bone all my foes, 

Of men abhorred 
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord ; 
Thy blessing on thy people flows. 



'^ 



560 TRANSLATIONS. 

PSALM IV 
August 10, 1653. 

Answer me when I call, 

God of my righteousness ; 

In straights and in distress 

Thou didst me disenthrall 

And set at large ; now spare, 
Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer. 

Great ones how long will ye 

My glory have in scorn ? 

How long be thus forborne 

Still to love vanity? 

To love, to seek, to prize 
Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies ? 

Yet know the Lord hath chose, 

Chose to himself apart, 

The good and meek of heart 

(For whom to choose he knows); 

Jehovah from on high 
Will hear my voice what time to him I cry. 

Be awed, and do not sin ; 

Speak to your hearts alone 

Upon your beds, each one, 

And be at peace within. 

Offer the offerings just 
Of righteousness, and iif Jehovah trust. 

Many there be that say 

" Who yet will show us good ?" 

Talking like this world's brood ; 

But, Lord, thus let me pray : 

On us lift up the light. 
Lift up the favor, of thy count'nance bright. 

Into my heart more joy 

And gladness thou hast put 

Than when a year of glut 

Their stores doth over-cloy, 

^ — ^ 



^ — ^ -^ 

TRANSLATIONS. S^i 

And from their plenteous grounds 
With vast increase their corn and wine abounds. 

In peace at once will I 

Both lay me down and sleep ; 

For thou alone dost keep 

Me safe where'er I lie : 

As in a rocky cell 
Thou, Lord, alone in safety mak'st me dwell. 

PSALM V. 
August 12, 1653. 
Jehovah, to my words give ear, 

My meditation weigh ; 
The voice of my complaining hear, 
My king and God, for unto thee I pray. 
Jehovah, thou my early voice 

Shalt in the morning hear ; 
r th' morning I to thee with choice 
Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou appear. 
For thou art not a God that takes 

In wickedness delight ; 
Evil with thee no biding makes ; 
Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight. 
All workers of iniquity 

Thou hat'st; and them unblest 
Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie ; 
The bloody and guileful man God doth detest. 
But I will in thy mercies dear, 

Thy numerous mercies, go 
Into thy house ; I, in thy fear, 
Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 
Lord, lead me in thy righteousness. 

Lead me, because of those 
That do observe if I transgress ; 
Set thy ways right before where my step goes. 
For in his faltering mouth unstable 

36 

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562 TRANSLATIONS. 

No word is firm or sooth ;^ 
Their inside, troubles miserable; 
An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth. 
God, find them guilty ; let them fall 
By their own counsels quelled ; 
Push them in their rebellions all 
Still on ; for against thee they have rebelled. 
Then all who trust in thee shall bring 
Their joy, while thou from blame 
Defend'st them : they shall ever sing. 
And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name. 
For thou, Jehovah, wilt be found 
To bless the just man still : 
As with a shield thou wilt surround 
Him with thy lasting favor and good will. 

PSALM VI. 

AiigJist 13, 1653. 
Lord, in thy anger do not reprehend me, 

Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; 

Pity me. Lord, for I am much deject. 
And very weak and faint ; heal and amend me : 
For all my bones, that even with anguish ache, 

Are troubled ; yea, my soul is troubled sore ; 

And thou, O Lord, how long? Turn, Lord ; restore 
My soul : oh, save me, for thy goodness sake ! 
For in death no remembrance is of thee ; 

Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise ? 

Wearied I am with sighing out my days; 
Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 
My bed I water .with my tears ; mine eye 

Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark 

r the midst of all mine enemies that mark. 
Depart, all ye that work iniquity, 
Depart from me ; for the voice of my weeping 

1 True. 



c^ 



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— ' ^ 

TRANSLATIONS. 563 

The Lord hath heard ; the Lord hath heard my prayer ; 

My supplication with acceptance fair 
The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 
Mine enemies shall all be blank, and dashed 

With much confusion; then, grown red with shame, 

They shall return in haste the way they came, 
And in a moment shall be quite abashed. 

PSALM vn. 

August 14, 1653. 
Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him. 
Lord, my God, to thee I fly ; 
Save me, and secure me under 
Thy protection while I cry ; 
Lest, as a lion (and no wonder), 
He hastes to fear my soul asunder, 
Tearing and no rescue nigh. 

Lord, my God, if I have thought 

Or done this ; if wickedness 

Be in my hands ; if I have wrought 

Til to him that meant me peace; 

Or to him have rendered less, 

And not freed my foe for naught ; 

Let the enemy pursue my soul, 

And overtake it ; let him tread 

My life down to the earth, and roll 

In the dust my glory dead, 

In the dust, and there outspread 

Lodge it with dishonor foul. 

Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire ; 

Rouse thyself amidst the rage 

Of my foes that urge like fire; 

And wake for me, their fury assuage; 

Judgment here thou didst engage 

And command, which I desire. 



4 



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564 TRANSLATIONS. 

So the assemblies of each nation 
Will surround thee, seeking right : 
Thence to thy glorious habitation 
Return on high, and in their sight, 
Jehovah judgeth most upright 
All people from the world's foundatioii. 

Judge me, Lord; be judge in this 
According to my righteousness, 
And the innocence which is 
Upon me : cause at length to cease 
Of evil men the wickedness, 
And their power that do amiss. 

But the just establish fast, 

Since thou art the just God that tries 

Hearts and reins. On God is cast 

My defence, and in him lies ; 

In him who, both just and wise, 

Saves the upright of heart at last. 

God is a just judge and severe. 

And God is every day offended ; 

If the unjust will not forbear. 

His sword he whets ; his brow hath bended 

Already, and for him intended 

The tools of de:.th that waits him near. 

(His arrows purposely made he 
For them that persecute.) Behold 
He travails big with vanity ; 
Trouble he hath conceived of old 
As in a womb, and from that mould 
Hath at length brought forth a lie. 

He digg'd a pit, and delved it deep, 

And fell into the pit he made : 

His mischief that due course doth keep, 

c^ \ — ^ 



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J 




V 


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TRANSLATIONS. 5 

Turns on his head : and his ill trade 
Of violence will undelayed 


65 






Fall on his crown with ruin steep. 


1 








Then will I Jehovah's praise 


1 








According to his justice raise, 


i 








And sing the Name and Deity 


I 








Of Jehovah the Most High. 


j 








PSALM VIII. 


i 
i 
I 








August 14, 1653. 


1 








Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 


j 








And glorious is thy name through all the earth, 










So as above the heavens thy praise to set ! 










Out of the tender mouths of latest bcarth, 










Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 










Hast founded strength, because of all thy foes, 










To stint the enemy, and slack the avenger's brow, 


1 








That bends his rage thy providence to oppose. 


i 








When I behold thy heavens, thy fingers' art, 










The moon and stars, which thou so bright hast set 










In the pure firmament, then saith my heart, 




. 






Oh, what is man that thou rememberest )'et 










And think'st upon him, or of man begot 


i 
i 






That him thou visit'st, and of him art found ? 










Scarce to be less than gods thou mad'st his lot; 










With honor and with state thou hast him crowned. 










O'er the works of thy hand thou mad'st him lord ; 










Thou hast put all under his lordly feet, 










All flocks and herds, by thy commanding word, 










All beasts that in the field or forest meet, 










Fowl of the heavens, and fish that through the wet 










Sea-paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth. 










Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 










And glorious is thy name through all the Earth ! 






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V V.1 



566 TRANSLATIONS. 

SCRAPS FROM THE PROS?: WRITINGS. 

FROM "OF REFORMATION TOUCHING CHURCH DIS- 
CIPLINE IN ENGLAND," 1641. 

[Dante, Inferno^ xix. 115.] 

Ah. Constantine, of how much ill was cause, 
Not thy conversion, but those rich domains 
That the first wealthy Pope received of thee ! 

[Petrarch, Sonnet 107.] 

Founded in chaste and humble poverty, 

'Gainst, them that raised thee dost thou lift thy horn, 

Impudent whore ? Where hast thou placed thy hope ? 

In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth ? 

Another Constantine comes not in haste. 

[Ariosto, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. Stanz. 80.] 

Then passed he to a flowery mountain green. 
Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously : 
This was that gift (if you the truth will have) 
That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave. 

FROM THE APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS, 1642. 

[Horace, Sat. i. i, 24.] 

Laughing to teach the truth 
What hinders ? as some teachers give to boys 
Junkets and knacks, that they may Icarn apace. 

[Horace, Sat. i. 10, 14.] 

■Joking decides great things 
Stronglicr and better oft than earnest can. 

[Sophocles, Electra, 624.] 
'Tis you that say it, not I. You do the deeds, 



And your ungodly deeds find me the words. 



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TRANSLA TIONS. 5 67 

FROM AREOPAGITICA, 1644. 
[Euripides, Siippliccs, 438] 
This is true Liberty, when freeborn men, 
Having to advise the public, may speak free : 
Which he who can and will deserves high praise : 
Who neither can nor will may hold his peace. 
What can be juster in a state than this ? 

FROM TETRACHORDON, 1645. 
[Horace, Epist. i. 16, 40.] 
Whom do we count a good man ? Whom but he 
Who keeps the laws and statutes of the senate, 
Who judges in great suits and controversies, 
Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ? 
But his own house, and the whole neighborhood, 
Sees his foul inside through his whited skin. 

FROM "THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES." 

1649. 
[Seneca, Her. Fur. 922.] 
There can be slain 
No sacrifice to God more acceptable 
Than an unjust and wicked king. 

FROM THE HISTORY OF BRITAIN, 1670. 

[In Geoffrey of Monmouth the story is that Brutus the Trojan, wandering through the 
Mediterranean, and uncertain whither to go, arrived at a dispeopled island called Leo- 
gecia, where he found, in a ruined city, a temple and oracle of Diana. H2 consulted the 
oracle in certain Greek verses, of which Geoffrey gives a version in Latin elegiacs ; and 
Milton translates these.] 

Goddess of Shades and Huntress, who at will 
Walk'st on the rolling sphere, and through the deep, 
• On thy third reign, the Earth, look now, and tell 
What land, what seat of rest thou bidd'st me seek, 
What certain seat, where I may worship thee 
For aye, with temples vowed, and virgin quires. 

^ ^ 



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568 TRANSLATIONS. 

[Sleeping before the altar of the Goddess, Brutus rer:eived from her, in vision, an answer to 
the above in Greek. Geoffrey quotes the traditional version of the same in Latin elegiacs, 
which Milton thus translates.] 

Brutus, far to the west, in the ocean wide, 
Beyond the realm of Gayl, a land there lies, 
Sea-girt it lies, where giants dwelt of old; 
Now void, it fits thy people. Thither ben*d 
Thy course ; there shalt thou find a lasting seat; 
There to thy sons another Troy shall rise, 
And kings be born of thee, whose dreaded might 
Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold. 



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PART II. 
THE LATIN POEMS. 

Separate Title-Page in Eaition of 1645 : — "Joannis Miltoni Londinensis Poemata. 
Quorum pleraque intra annum retails vigesimum conscripsit. Nunc primum edita. 
Londini, Typis R. R. Prostant ad Insignia Principis, in Coemelerio D. Pauli, apud 
Humphredum Moseley, 1645." 

Separnte Title-Page in Edition of 1673 : — Same as above, word for word, as far as to 
"Londini," inclusively; after which the rest runs thus; " ExcudebatW. R. anno 1673." 



[569T 

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570 



LATIN POEMS, 



^ 



Latin Poems. 



[DE AUCTORE TESTIMONIA.] 

H(PC qu<^ sequtintiir de Aiithore tcstimonia, iametsiipse intelligebat non tarn 
de se quam supra se esse dicta, eo qicod prcrccaro ingtnio vin, nee non amici, ita 
fere solent laudare lit omnia suis potius virtutibus quam veritati congriientia 
nitnis cupide affinganf, noluit tamen horicm egregiam in se voliintatcm ncn esse 
notam, cum alii prcescrtim ut id facer et magnopere suaderent. Duni eni7n niviia; 
laudis invidiam totis ab se viribus amolitur, sibique quod plus cequo est ran 
attributum esse mainilt, judicium interim hominum cordatorum atque illustrium 
quin sujnmo sibi honori ducat ncgare no7i potest. 

JOANNES BAPTISTA MANSUS, MARCHIO VILLENSIS NEAPOLITANUS, AD 
JOANNEM MILTONIUM ANGLUM. 

Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, si pietas sic, 
Non Anglus, verum hercle Angelus ipse, fores. 

AD JOANNEM MILIONEM ANGLUM, TRIPLICI POESEOS LAUREA CORONAN- 
DUM, GRyECA NIMIRUM, LATINA, ATQUE HETRUSCA, EPIGRAMMA JOANNIS 
SALSILLI ROMANI. 

Cede, Meles ; cedat depressa Mincius urna ; 

Sebetus Tassum desinat usque loqui ; 
At Thamesis victor cunctis ferat altior undas ; 

Nam per te, Milto, par tribus unus crit. 

AD JOANNEM MILTONUM, 

Graecia Maeonidem, jactet sibi Roma Maronem ; 
Anglia Miltonum jactat utrique parem. 

Selvaggi. 



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LATIN POEMS. 571 

AL SIGNOR GIO. MILTONI, NOBILE INGLESE. 
OUE. 

Ergimi all' Etra o Clio, 

Perche di stelle intrecciero corona ! 

Non piu del biondo Dio 

La fronde eterna in Pindo, e in Elicona : 

Diensi a merto maggior maggiori i fregi, 

A celeste virtu celesti pregi. 

Non puo del Tempo edace 
Rimaner preda eterno alto valore ; 
Non puo r obblio rapace 
Furar dalle memorie eccelso onore. 
Suir arco di mia cetra un dardo forte 
Virtu m' adatti, e feriro la Morte. 

Deir Ocean profondo 

Cinta dagli ampi gorghi Anglia risiede 

Separata dal mondo, 

Pero che il suo valor 1' umano eccede : 

Questa feconda sa produrre Eroi, 

Ch' lianno a ragion del sovruman tra noi. 

Alia virtu sbandita 

Danno nei petti lor fido ricetto, 

Quella gli e sol gradita, 

Perche in lei san trovar gioia e diletto ; 

Ridillo tu, Giovanni, e niostra in tanto, 

Con tua vera virtu, vero il mio Canto. 

Lungi dal patrio lido 

Spinse Zeusi 1' industre ardente brama ; 

Ch' udio d' Elena il grido 

Con aurea tromba rimbombar la fama, 

E per poterla effigiare al paro 

Dalle piu belle Idee trasse il piu raro. 



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572 LATIN POEMS. 

Cosi r ape ingegnosa 

Trae con industria il suo liquor pregiato 

Dal giglio e dalla rosa, 

E quanti vaghi fieri ornano il prato ; 

Formano un dolce suon diverse corde, 

Fan varic voci melodia concorde. 

Di bella gloria amante 

Milton, dal Ciel natio, per varie parti 

Le peregrine piante 

Volgesti a ricercar scienze ed arti; 

Dell Gallo rcgnator vedesti i Regni, 

E deir Italia ancor gl' Eroi piu degni. 

Fabro quasi divino, 

Sol virtu rintracciando, il tuo pensiero 

Vide in ogni confino 

Chi di nobil valor calca il sentiero ; 

L' ottimo dal miglior dopo scegliea 

Per fabbricar d' ogni virtu 1' Idea. 

Quanti nacquero in Flora, 

in lei del parlar Tosco appreser 1' arte. 
La cui memoria onora 
II mondo fatta eterna in dotte carte, 
Volesti ricercar per tuo tesoro, 
E parlasti con lor nell' opre loro. 

Neir altera Babelle 

Pel te il parlar confuse Giove in vano, 

Che per varie favelle 

Di se stessa trofeo cadde sul piano: 

Ch' ode, oltr' all' Anglia, il suo piu degno idioma, 

Spagna, Francia, Toscana, e Grecia, e Roma. 

1 piu profondi arcani 

Ch' occulta la Natura, e in cielo e in terra, 
Ch' a Ingegni sovrumani 



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LATIN POEMS. $73 



Troppo avara talor gli chiude, e serra, 
Chiaramente conosci, e giungi al fine 
Delia moral virtude al gran confine. 

Non batta il Tempo 1' ale, 

Fermisi immoto, e in un ferminsi gli anni, 

Che di virtu immortale 

Scorron di troppo ingiuriosi ai danni ; 

Che s' opre degne di poema e storia 

Furon gia, 1' hai presenti alia memoria. 

Dammi tua dolce Cetra, 

Se vuoi ch' io dica del tuo dolce canto, 

Ch' inalzandoti all' Etra 

Di farti uomo celeste ottiene il vanto ; 

II Tamigi il dira, che gli e concesso 

Per te, suo cigno, pareggiar Permesso, 

Io, che in riva dell' Arno 

Tento spiegar tuo merto alto c preclaro, 

So che fatico indarno, 

E ad ammirar, non a lodarlo imparo ; 

Freno dunque la lingua, e ascolto il core, 

Che ti prende a lodar con Io stupore. 

Del Sig. Antonio Francini, 
Gentiluomo Fiorentino. 

JOANNI MILTONI, LONDINENSI, 

Juveni patria, virtutibus, eximio : 

Viro qui multa peregrinatione, studio cuncta, orbis terrarum loca 
perspexit, ut, novus Ulysses, omnia ubique ab omnibus apprehend- 
eret: 

Polyglotto, in cujus ore linguae jam deperditae sic reviviscunt 
ut idiomata omnia sint in ejus laudibus infacunda ; et jure ea per- 
callet ut admirationes et plausus populorum ab propria sapientia 
excitatos intelligat : 

<^ ____ L^. ^ 



^ -{jp 

574 LATIN POEMS. 

Illi, cujus animi dotes corporisque sensus ad admirationem com- 
movent, et per ipsam motumcuiqueauferunt; cujus opera ad plausus 
hortantur, sed venustate vocem laudatoribus adimunt: 

Cui in Memoria totus orbis ; in Intellectu sapientia; in Voluntate 
ardor gloriae ; in Ore eloquentia ; harmonicos caelestium sphcaerarum 
sonitus Astronornia duce audienti ; characteres mirabilium Naturse 
per quos Dei magnitudo describitur magistra Philosophia legenti ; 
antiquitatum latebras, vetustatis excidia.eruditionis ambages, comite 
assidua Autorum lectione. 'exquirenti, restauranti, percurrcnti ' 

(At cur nitor in arduum ?) : 
Illi in cujus virtutibus evulgandis ora Fama; non sufficiant, nee 
hominum stupor in laudandis satis est, Reverentiae et Amoris ergo 
hoc jjus mentis debitum admirationis tributum offert 

Carolus Datus, Patricius Florentinus, 
Tanto homini servus, tanta; virtutis amator. 

ELEGIARUM LIBER. 

ELEGIA PRIMA. 
Ad Carolum Diodatum. 
Taxdem, chare, tuae mihi pervenere tabellae, 

Pertulit et voces nuncia charta tuas; 
Pertulit occidua Dev£e Cestrensis ab ora 

Vergivium prono qua petit amne salum. 
Multum, crede, juvat terras aluisse remotas 

Pectus amans nostri, tamque fidele caput, 
Quodque mihi lepidum tellus longinqua sodalem 

Debet, at unde brevi reddere jussa velit 
Me tenet urbs reflua quam Thamesis alluit unda, 

Mcque ncc invitum patria dulcis habct. 
Jam nee arundiferum mihi cura reviserc Camum, 

Nee dudum vetiti me laris angit amor. 
Nuda nee arva placent, umbrasque negantia molles ; 

Quam male Phoebicolis convenit ille locus ! 
Nee duri libet usque minas perferre Magistri, 

Caeteraque ingenio non subeunda meo. 

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LATIN POEMS. 575 

Si sit hoc exilium, patrios adiisse penates, 

Et vacuum curis otia grata sequi, 
Non ego vel profugi nomen sortemve recuso, 

Laetus et exilii conditione fruor. 
O utinam vates nunquam graviora tulisset 

Ille Tomitano flebilis exul agro ; 
Non tunc lonio quicquam cessisset Homero, 

Neve foret victo laus tibi prima, Maro. 
Tempora nam licet hie placidis dare hbera Musis, 

Et totum rapiunt me, mea vita, libri. 
Exclpit hinc fessum sinuosi pompa theatri, 

Et vocat ad plausus garrula scena suos. 
Seu catus auditur senior, seu prodigus haeres, 

Seu procus, aut posita casside miles adest, 
Sive decennali fcecundus lite patronus 

Detonat inculto barbara verba foro ; 
Sa;pe vafer gnato succurrit servus amanti, 

Et nasum rigidi fallit ubique patris; 
Ssepe novos illic virgo mirata calorcs 

Quid sit amor nescit, dum quoque nescit amat % 
Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragcedia sceptrum 

Quassat, et effusis crinibus ora rotat; 
Et dolet, et specto, juvat et spectasse dolendo ; 

Interdum et lacrymis dulcis amaror inest: 
Seu puer infelix indelibata reliquit 

Gaudia, et abrupto flendus amore cadit ; 
Seu ferus e tenebris iterat Styga criminis ultor, 
• Conscia funereo pectora torre movens ; 
Seu moeret Pelopeia domus, seu nobilis Hi, 

Aut luit incestos aula Creontis avos. 
Sed neque sub tecto semper nee in urbe latemus, 

Irrita nee nobis tem.pora veris eunt. 
Nos quoque lucus habet vicina consitus ulmo, 

Atque suburbani nobilis umbra loci. 
Saepius hie, blandas spirantia sidera flammas, 

Virgineos videas preeteriisse choros. 
Ah quoties dignae stupui miracula formae 

Quae possit senium vel reparare Jovis 1 



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576 LATIN POEMS. 

Ah quoties vidi superantia lumina gemmas, 

Atque faces quotquot volvit uterque polus ; 
Collaque bis vivi Pelopis quse brachia vincant, 

Quaeque fliut puro nectare tincta via, 
Et decus eximium frontis, trcmulosque capillos, 

Aurea quse fallax retia tendit Amor; 
Pellacesque gcnas, ad quas hyacinthina sordet 

Purpura, et ipse tui floris, Adoni, rubor! 
Cedite laudatse toties Heroides olim, 

Et quaecunque vagum cepit arnica Jovem ; 
Cedite Achaemeni£e turrita fronte puellae, 

Et quot Susa colunt, Memnoniamque Ninon; 
Vos etiam Danaae fasces submittite Nymphae, 

Et vos Iliacae, Romuleaeque nurus ; 
Nee Pompeianas Tarpeia Musa columnas 

Jactet, et Ausoniis plena theatra stolis. 
Gloria virginibus debetur prima Britannis ; 

Extera sat tibi sit foemina posse scqui. 
Tuque urbs Dardaniis, Londinum, structa colonis, 

Turrigerum late conspicienda caput, 
Tu nimium felix intra tua moenia claudis 

Quicquid formosi pendulus orbis habet. 
Non tibi tot caelo scintillant astra screno, 

Endymioneae turba ministra deae, 
Quot tibi conspicuae formaque auroque puellas 

Per medias radiant turba videnda vias. 
Creditur hue geminis venisse invecta columbis 

Alma pharctrigero milite cincta Venus, 
Huic Cnidon, et riguas Simoentis flumine valles, 

Huic Paphon, et roseam posthabitura Cypron. 
Ast ego, dum pueri sinit indulgentia caeci, 

Mcenia quam subito linquere fausta paro ; 
Et vitare procul malefidse infamia Circes 

Atria, divini Molyos usus ope. 
Stat quoque juncosas Cami remeare paludes, 

Atque iterum raucae murmur adire Scholae. 
Interea fidi parvuni cape munus amici, 

Paucaque in altcrnos verba coacta modes. 

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LATIN POEMS. 577 

ELEGIA SECUNDA. 

Anno ataiis 17. 

In obitum Pr.ecoms Academici Cantabrigiensis. 

Te, qui conspicuus baculo fulgcnte solebas 

Palladium toties ore ciere gregem, 
Ultima praeconum prseconem te quoque saeva 

Mors rapit, officio nee favet ipsa suo. 
Candidiora lieet fuerint tibi tempora plumis 

Sub quibus accipimus delituisse Jovem, 
O dignus tamen Hsemonio juvenescere succo, 

Dignus in ^sonios vivere posse dies, 
Dignus quern Stygiis mcdica revocaret ab undis 

Arte Coronides, saspe rogante dea. 
Tu si jussus eras acies accire togatas, 

Et celer a Phcebo nuntius ire tuo, 
Talis in Iliaca stabat Cyllenius aula 

Alipes, aetherca missus ab arce Patris ; 
Talis et Eurybates ante ora furentis Achillei 

Rettulit Atrida; jussa scvera ducis. 
Magna scpulchrorum regina, satellcs Averni, 

Saeva nimis Musis, Palladi saeva nimis, 
Quin illos rapias qui pondus inutile terrae ? 

Turba quidem est telis ista pctenda tuis. 
Vestibus hunc igitur pullis, Academia, luge, 

Et madeant lacrymis nigra feretra tuis. 
Fundat et ipsa modos querebunda Elegeia tristcs, 

Personet et totis naenia moesta scholis. 

ELEGIA TERTIA. 

Anno ataiis 1 7. 

In obitum Pr.esulis Wintoniensis. 

McESTUS eram, et tacitus, nullo comitante, sedebam, 

Haerebantque animo tristia plura meo : 
Protinus en subiit funestae cladis imago 

Fecit in Angliaco quam Libitina solo ; 

37 

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578 LATIN POEMS. 

Dum procerum ingressa est splendentes marmorc turrcs 

Dira sepulchrali Mors metuenda face, 
Pulsavitque auro gravidos et jaspide muros, 

Nee metuit satrapum sternere falce gregcs. 
Tunc memini clarique ducis, fratrisque verendi, 

Intempestivis ossa cremata rogis ; 
Et memini Heroum quos vidit ad Kthera raptos, 

Flevit et amissos Bclgia tota duces. 
At te praecipue luxi, dignissime Pra^sul, 

Wintonia^que olim gloria magna tuae ; 
Delicui fletu, et tristi sic ore querebar : 

" Mors fera, Tartareo diva secunda Jovi, 
Nonnc satis quod syh'a tuas persentiat iras, 

Et quod in hcrbosos jus tibi detur agros, 
Quodque afflata tuo marcescant lilia tabo, 

Et crocus, et pulchrae Cypridi sacra rosa ? 
Nee sinis ut semper fluvio contermina quercus 

Miretur lapsus praetereuntis aqua; ; 
Et tibi succumbit liquido quae plurima caelo 

Evehitur pennis, quamlibet augur, avis, 
Et quae mille nigris errant animalia sylvis, 

Et quod alunt mutum Proteos antra pecus. 
Invida, tanta tibi cum sit concessa potestas. 

Quid juvat humana tingere caede manus ? 
Nobileque in pectus ccrtas acuisse sagittas, 

Semideamque animam sede fugasse sua?" 
Talia dum lacrymans alto sub pectore volvo, 

Roscidus occiduis Hesperus exit aquis, 
Et Tartessiaco submerserat a^quore currum 

Phoebus, ab E60 littore mensus iter. 
Nee mora ; membra cavo posui refovenda cubili ; 

Condiderant oculos noxque soporque meos, 
Cum mihi visus eram lato spatiarier agro ; 

Hcu ! nequit ingenium visa referie meum. 
Illie punicea radiabant omnia luce, 

Ut matutino cum juga sole rubent; 



^ 



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LATIN POEMS. 579 

Ac veluti cum pandit opes Thaumantia proles 

Vestitu nituit multicolore solum ; 
Non dea tam variis ornavit floribus hortos 

Alcinoi Zephyro Chloris amata levi. 
Flumina vernantes lambunt argentea campos ; 

Ditior Hesperio flavet arena Tago ; 
Serpit odoriferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 

Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis : 
Talis in extremis terrai Gangetidis oris 

Luciferi regis fingitur esse domus. 
Ipse racemiferis dum densas vitibus umbras 

Et pellucentes miror ubique locos, 
Ecce mihi subito Pr^esul Wintonius astat ! 

Sidereum nitido fulsit in ore jubar; 
Vestis ad auratos dcfluxit Candida talos; 

Infula divinum cinexerat alba caput. 
Dumque senex tali incedit venerandus amictu, 

Intremuit la;to florca terra sono ; 
Agmina gemmatis plaudunt cslestia pcnnis ; 

Pura triumphali personat sethra tuba. 
Quisque novum amplexu comitem cantuque salutat, 

Hosque aliquis placido misitab ore sonos : 
" Nate, veni, et patrii fclix cape gaudia regni ; 

Semper abhinc duro, nate, labore vaca." 
Dixit, et aligerje tetigerunt nablia turmai ; 
At mihi cum tenebris aurea pulsa quies ; 
Flebam turbatos Cephaleia pellice somnos. 
Talia contingant somnia sa^pe mihi ! 

ELEGIA OUARTA. 

A7ino cc tails i S. 

Ad THOMAM JUNTUM, Pr^ceptorem suum, apud Mercatores 

Anglicos Hamburg.e agentes Pastoris munere fungentem. 

CuRRE per immensum subito, mea littera, pontum ; 

I, pete Teutonicos lasve per aequor agros ; 

"" \ — ^ 



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580 LATIN POEMS. 

Segnes rumpe moras, et nil, precor, obstet eunti, 

Et festinantis nil remoretur iter. , 

Ipse ego Sicanio frc-enantem carcere ventos 

iEolon, et virides sollicitabo Deos, 
Cseruleamque suis comitatam Dorida Nymphis, 

Ut tibi dent placidam per sua rcgna viam 
At tu, si poteris, celercs tibi sume jiigales, 
Vecta quibus Colchis fugit ab ore viri ; 
Aut queis Triptolemus Scythicas devenit in oras, 

Gratus Eleusina missus ab urbe puer. 
Atque, ubi Germanas flavere videbis arenas, 

Ditis ad Hamburgse mcenia flecte gradum, 
Dicitur occiso quae ducere nomen ab Hama. 

Cimbrica quern fertur clava dedisse neci. 
Vivit ibi antiquae clarus pietatis honore 

Praesul, Christicholas pascere doctus oves ; 
Ille quidem est animae plusquam pars altera nostras ; 

Dimidio vitas vivere cogor ego. 
Hei mihi, quot pelagi, quot montes interjecti, 

Me faciunt alia parte carere mei ! 
Charior ille mihi quam tu, doctissime Graium, 

Cliniadi, proncpos qui Telamonis crat; 
Quamque Stagirites generoso magnus alumno. 

Quern peperit Lybico Chaonis alma Jovi, 
Qualis Amyntorides, qualis Philyreius Heros 

Myrmidonum regi, talis et ille mihi. 
Primus ego Aonios illo praeeunte recessus 

Lustrabam, et bifidi sacra vireta jugi, 
Pieriosque hausi latices, Clioque favente 

Castalio sparsi laeta ter ora mero. 
Flammeus at signum ter viderat arietis iEthon 

Induxitque auro lanea terga novo, 
Bisque novo terram sparsisti, Chlori, senilem 
Graminc, bisque tuas abstulit Auster opes ; 
Necdum ejus licuit mihi lumina pascere vultu, 
Aut linguae dukes aure bibisse sonos. 

^ ^ 



f-^ ^ Qp 

LATIN POEAIS, 581 

Vade igitur, cursuque Eurum praeverte sonorum ; 

Quam sit opus monitis res docet, ipsa vides. 
Invenies dulci cum conjuge forte sedeiiteni, 

Mulcentem gremio pignora chara suo ; 
Forsitan aut veterum praelarga volumina Patruni 

Versantem, aut veri Biblia sacra Dei, 
Caelestive animas saturantem rore tencllas, 

Grande salutiferae religionis opus. 
Utque solet, multani sit dicere cura salutem, 

Dicere quam decuit, si modo adesset, herum. 
Haec quoque, pauluin oculos in humum defixa modestos. 

Verba verecundo sis memor ore loqui: 
" Haec tibi, si teneris vacat inter prailia Musis, 

Mittit ab Angliaco littore fida manus. 
Accipe sinceram, quamvis sit sera, salutem ; 

Fiat et hoc ipso gratior ilia tibi. 
Sera quidem, sed vera fuit, quam casta recepit 

Icaris a lento Penelopeia viro. 
Ast ego quid volui manifestum tollere crimen, 

Ipse quod ex omni parte levare nequit? 
Arguitur tardus merito, moxamque fatetur, 

Et pudct officium deseruisse suum. 
Tu modo da veniam fasso, veniamque roganti-, 

Crimina diminui quse patuere solent. 
Non ferus in pavidos rictus diducit hiantcs, 

Vulnifico pronos nee rapit ungue lee. 
Saepe sarissiferi crudelia pectora Thracis 
Supplicis ad nicestas delicuere preces; 
Extensaeque manus avertunt fulminis ictus, 

Placat et iratos hostia parva Deos. 
Jamque diu scripsisse tibi fuit impetus illi, 
Neve moras ultra ducere passus Amor; 
Nam vaga Fama refert, heu nuntia vera malorum ! 

In tibi finitimis bella tumere locis, 
Teque tuamque urbem truculento milite cingi, 
Et jam Saxonicos arma parasse duces. 
J 

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<tr^ 

582 * LATIN POEMS. 

Te circum lat6 campos populatur Enyo, 

Et sata carne virum jam cruor arva rigat. 
Germanisque suum concessit Thracia Martem; 

IIluc Odrysios Mars pater egit equos; 
Pefpetuoque comans jam deflorescit oliv^a ; 

Fugit et aerlsonam Diva perosa tubam, 
Fugit, io ! terris, et jam non ultima Virgo 

Creditor ad superas justa volasse domos. 
Te tamen interea belli circumsonat horror, 

Vivis ct ignoto solus inopsque solo ; 
Et, tibi quam patrii non exhibuerc penates, 

Sede peregrina qu^sris egenus opem. 
Patria, dura parens, et saxis ssevior albis 

Spumea quae pulsat littoris unda tui, 
Siccine te decet innocuos exponere foetus, 

Siccine in externam ferrea cogis humum, 
Et sinis ut terris qu£e:-ant alimcnta remotis 

Quos tibi prospiciens miscrat ipse Deus, 
Et qui la^ta fcrunt de cjeIo nuntia, quique 

Quas via post cinercs ducat ad astra docent ? 
Digna.quidcm Stygiis quae vivas clausa tenebris, 

^Elternaque animse digna perire fame ! 
Haud aliter vates terrae Thesbitidis olim 

Pressit inassucto devia tesqua pede, 
Desertasque Arabum salebras, dum regis Achabi 

Effugit, atque tuas, Sidoni dira, manus. 
Talis et, horrisono laceratus membra flagello, 

Paulus ab ^mathia pellitur urbe Cilix ; 
Piscosseque ipsum Gergessse civis Icsum 

Finibus ingratus jussit abire suis. 
At tu sume animos, nee spes cadat anxia curis, 

Nee tua concutiat decolor ossa metus. 
Sis etenim quamvis fulgentibus obsitus armis, 

Intententque tibi millia tela necem, 
At nullis vel inerme latus violabitur armis, 

Deque tuo cuspis nulla cruore bibet. 



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LATIN POEMS. 583 



Namque eris ipse Dei radiante sub segide tutus ; 

Ille tibi custos, et pugil ille tibi ; 
Ille Sionasae qui tot sub maenibus arcis 

Assyrios fudit noctc silcnfe viros ; 
Inque fugam vcrtit quos in Samaritidas oras 

Mi.sit ab antiquis prisca Damascus agris ; 
Terruit et djnsas pavido cum rege cohortes, 

Acre dum vacuo buccina clara sonat, 
Cornea pulvereum dum verberat ungula campum, 

Currus arenosam dum quatit actus humum, 
Auditurque hinnitus equorum ad bclla ruentijm, I 

Ei: strepitus ferri, murmuraque alta virum. I 

Et tu (quod superest miseris) sperare memento, 

Et tua magnanimo pectore vince mala; 
Nee dubites quandoque frui melioribus annis, 

Atque iterum patrios posse videre lares." 

ELEGIA OUINTA. 
Anno atatis 20. 
In AnvENTUxM Veris. 
In se perpetuo Tempus revolubile gyro 

Jam revocat Zephyros, vere tepente, novos ; 
Induiturque brevem Tellus reparata juventam, 

Jamque soluta gelu dulce virescit humus. 
Fallor? an et nobis reduent in carmina vires, 

Ingeniumque mihi munere veris adest ? 
Munere veris adest, iterumque vigescit ab illo 

(Quis putet?) atque aliquod jam sibi poscit opus. 
Castalis ante oculos, bifidumque cacumen oberrat, 

Et mihi Pircncn somnia nocte fcrunt ; 
Concitaque arcano fervent mihi pectora motu, 

Et furor, et sonitus me sacer intus agit. 
Delius ipse vcnit (video Peneide lauro 

Implicitos crines), Delius ipse venit. 
Jam mihi mens liquidi raptatur in ardua caeli, 

Perque vagas nubes corpore liber eo ; 



^ 



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584 LATIN POEMS. 

Perque umbras, perque antra feror, penetralia vatu.ii ; 

Et mihi fana patent interora Deum ; 
Intuiturque animus toto quid agatur Olympo, 

Nee fugiunt oculos Tartara ca^ca meos. 
Quid tarn grande sonat distento spiritus ore ? 

Quid parit hsec rabies, quid sacer iste furor ? 
Ver mihi, quod dedit ingenium, cantabitur illo ; 

Profuerint isto reddita dona modo. 
Jam, Philomela, tuos, foliis adoperta novellis, 

Instituis modulos, dum silet omne nemus : 
Urbe ego, tu sylva, simul incipiamus utrique, 

Et simul adventum veris uterque canat. 
Veris, io ! rediere vices ; celebremus honores 

Veris, et hoc subeat Musa perennis opus. 
Jam sol, /Ethiopas fugiens Tithoniaque arva, 

Flectit ad Arctoas aurea lora plagas. 
Est breve noctis iter, brevis est mora noctis opacje, 

Horrida cum tenebris exulat ilia suis. 
Jamque Lycaonius plaustrum caeleste Bootes 

Non longa sequitur fessus ut ante via; 
Nunc etiam solitas circum Jovis atria toto 

Excubias agitant sidera rara polo. 
Nam dolus, et cjedes, et vis cum nocte recessit. 

Neve Giganteum Dii timuere scelus. 
Forte aliquis scopuli recubans in vertice pastor, 

Roscida cum primo solo rubescit humus, 
" Hac," ait " hac certe caruisti nocte puella, 

Phoebe, tua, celeres quae retineret cquos." 
Laeta suas repetit sylvas, pharetramque resumit 

Cynthia luciferas ut videt alta rotas, 
Et, tenues ponens radios, gaudere videtur 

Officium fieri tarn breve fratris ope. 
" Desere," Phoebus ait, *' thalamos, Aurora, seniles ; 

Quid juvat effoeto procubisse toro ? 
Te manet yEolides viridi venator in herba ; 

Surge ; tuos igncs altus Hymcttus habet." 



4> 



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LATIN POEMS. 585 

Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur, 

Et matutinos ocius urget equos. 
Exuit invisam Tellus rediviva senectam, 

Et cupit amplexus, Phoebe, subire tuos. 
Et cupit, et digna est; quid enim formosius ilia. 

Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus, 
Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto 

Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis ? 
Ecce, coronatur sacro frons ardua luco, 

Cingit ut Idaeam pinea turris Opim ; 
Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos, 

Floribus et visa est posse placere suis. 
Floribus effuses ut erat redimita capillos, 

Tainario placuit diva Sicana Deo. 
Aspice, Phoebe ; tibi faciles hortantur amores, 

Mellitasque movent flamina verna preces ; 
Cinnamea Zephyrus leve plaudit odorifer ala; 

Blanditiasque tibi ferre videntur aves. 
Nee sine dote tuos temeraria quaerit amores 

Terra, nee optatos poscit egena toros ; 
Alma salutiferum medicos tibi gramem in usus 

Praebet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos. 
Quod si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt 

Munera (muneribus saspe coemptus amor), 
Ilia tibi ostentat quascunque sub ^equore vasto, 

Et superinjectis montibus, abdit opes. 
Ah ! quoties, cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo 

In vespertinas praecipitaris aquas, 
" Cur te," inquit, " cursu languentem, Phoebe, diurno 

Hesperiis recipit caerula mater aquis ? 
Quid tibi cum Tethy ? quid cum Tartesside lympha ? 

Dia quid immundo perluis ora sale? 
Frigora, Phoebe, mea melius captabis in umbra ; 

Hue a des ; ardentes imbue rore comas. 
Mollior egelida veniet tibi somnus in herba; 

Hue ades, et gremio luinina pone meo. 



^ 

586 LATIN POEMS. 

Ouaque jaces circum mulcebit lene susurrans 

Aura per humentes corpora fusa rosas. 
Nee me (crede mihi) terrent Semeleia fata, 

Nee Phaetonteo fumidus axis equo ; 
Cum tu, Phoebe, tuo sapientius uteris igni, 

Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo." 
Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores ; 

Matris in exemplum csetera turba ruunt. 
Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido, 

Languentesque fovet solis ab igne faces. 
Insonuere novis lethalia cornua nervis, 

Triste micant ferre tela corusca novo. 
Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam, 

Quaeque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco. 
Ipsa senescentem reparat Venus annua formam, 

Atque iterum tepido creditur orta mari. 
Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hyvicmve per urbes ; 

Littus io Hymen et cava saxa sonant. 
Cultior ille venit, tunicaque decentior apta ; 

Puniceum redolet vestis odora crocum. 
Egrediturque frequens ad amoeni gaudia veris 

Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus. 
Votum est cuique suum ; votum est tamen omnibus unum, 

Ut sibi quem cupiat det Cytherea virum. 
Nunc quoque septena modulatur arundine pastor, 

Et sua qu^e jungat carmina Phyllis habet. 
Navita nocturno placat sua sidera cantu, 

Delphinasque leves ad vada summa vocat. 
Jupiter ipse alto cum conjuge ludit Olympo, 

Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos. 
Nunc etiam Satyri, cum sera crepuscula surgunt, 

Pervolitant celeri florea rura choro, 
Sylvanusque sua cyparissi fronde revinctus, * 

Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper. 
Quaeque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis 

Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros. 

4>- ^ 



LATIN POEMS. 587 

Per sata luxuriat fruticetaque Maenalius Pan; 

Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Ceres ; 
Atque aliquam cupidus praedatur Oreada Faunus, 

Consulit in trcpidos dum sibi nympha pedes, 
Jamque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri, 

Et fugit, et fugicns pcrvelit ipsa capi. 
Dii quoque non dubitant caelo praeponere sylvas, 

Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus habet. 
Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto, 

Nee vos arborea, dii, precor, ite domo. 
Te referant, miseris to, Jupiter, aurea terris 

Ssecia! quid ad nimbos, aspera tela redis? 
Tu saltern lente rapidos age, Phoebe, jugales * 

Qua potes, et scnsim tempera vcris cant: 
Brumaque productas tarde fcrat hispida noctes, 

Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo ! 

ELEGIA SEXTA. 
AD CAROLUM DIODATUM, ruri commorantem ; 

Qui, cum Idibus Decemb. scripsisset, et sua carmina excusari postulasset si solito minus 
essent bona, quod inter lautitias quibus erat ab amicis exceptus hand satis felicem operam 
Musis dare se posse affirmabat, l.oc habuit responsum. 

MiTTO tibi sanam non pleno ventere salutem, 

Qua tu distento forte carere potes. 
At tua quid nostram prolectat Musa camoenam. 

Nee sinit optatas posse sequi tenebras ? 
Carmine scire velis quam te redamemque colamque ; 

Crede mihi vix hoc carmine scire queas. 
Nam neque noster amor modulis includitur arctis, 

Nee venit ad claudos integer ipse pedes. 
Quam bene solennes cpulas, hilaremque Decembrim, 

Festaque caelifugam quae coluere Deum, 
Deliciasque refers, hiberni gaudia ruris, 

Haustaque per lepidos Gallica musta focos ! 
Quid quereris refugam vino dapibusque poesin ? 

Carmen amat Bacchum, carmina Bacchus amat. 

I 

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588 LATIN- POEMS. 

Nee puduit Phoebum virides gestasse corymbos, 

Atque hederam lauro prseposuisse suae. 
Sa;pius Aoniis clamavit collibus Eiice 

Mista Thyoneo turba novena choro. 
Naso Corallseis mala carmina misit ab agris ; 

Non illic epul^, non sata vitis erat. 
Quid nisi vina, rosasque, racemiferuinque Lya^um, 

Cantavit brevibus Teia Musa modis? 
Pindaricosque inflat numeros Teumesius Euan, 

F^t rcdolct sumptum pagina quseque merum ; 
Dum gravis cverso currus crepat axe supinus, 

Et volat Eleo pulvcre fuscus eques. 
Quadrimoque madens Lyricen Romanus laccho 

Duke canit Glyceran flavicomamque Chloen. 
Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mensa paratu 

Mentis alit vires, ingeni unique fovct. 
Massica foecundam despumant pocula venam, 

Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. 
Addimus his artes, fusumque per intima Phoebum 

Corda; favent uni Bacchus, AppoUo, Ceres. 
Scilicet haud mirumtam dulcia carmina per te, 

Numine composito, tres peperissj Deos. 
Nunc quoque Thressa tibi caelato barbitos auro 

Insonat arguta molliter icta manu ; 
Auditurque chelys suspensa tapetia circum, 

Virgineos tremula qua; regat arte pedes. 
Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula Musas, 

Et revocent quantum crapula pellit iners. 
Crede mihi, dum psallit ebur, comitataque plectrum 

Irnplet odoratos festa chorea tholos, 
Percipies taciturn per pectora serpere Phoebum, 

Quale repentinus permeat ossa calor; 
Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonantem 

Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. 
Namque Elegia levis multorum cura deorum est, 

Et vocat ad numeros quemlibet ilia suos; 



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LATIN POEMS. 589 

Liber adest elegis Eratoque, Ceresque, Venusque, 

Et cum purpurea matre tenellus Amor. 
Talibus inde licent convivia larga poetis, 

Saepius et veteri commaduisse mero. 
At qui bella refert, et adulto sub Jove caelum, 

Heroasque pios, semideosque duces, 
Et nunc sancta canit superum consulta deorum, 

Nunc latrata fero regna profunda cane, 
Ille quidem parce, Samii pro more magistri, 

Vivat, et innocuos praebeat herba.cibos ; 
Stet prope fagineo pellucida lympha catillo, 

Sobriaque e puro pocula fonte bibat. 
Additur huic scelerisque vacans et casta juventus, 

Et rigidi mores, et sine labe manus ; 
Qualis veste nitens sacra, et lustralibus undis, 

Surgis ad infensos augur iture Deos. 
Hoc ritu vixisse ferunt post rapta sagacem 

Lumina Tiresian, Ogygiumque Linon, 
Et lare devoto profugum Calchanta, senemque 

Orpheon edomitis sola per antra feris ; 
Sic dapis exiguus, sic rivi potor Homerus 

Dulichium vexit per freta longa virum, 
Et per monstrificam PerseiiE Phoebados aulam, 

Et vada foemineis insidiosa sonis, 
Perque tuas, rex ime, domos, ubi sanguine nigro 

Dicitur umbrarum detinuisse greges : 
Diis etenim sacer est vates, divijmque sacerdos, 

Spirat et occultum pectus et era Jovem. 
At tu si quid agam scitabere (si modo saltem 

Esse putas tanti noscere siquid agam), 
Paciferum canimus caelesti semine regem, 

Faustaque sacratis saecula pacta libris; 
Vagitumque Dei, et stabulantem paupere tecto 

Qui suprema suo cum patre regna colit ; 
Stelliparumque polum, modulantesque aethere turmas, 

Et subito elisos ad sua fana Deos. 



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590 LATIN POEMS. 

Dona quidem dedimus Christi natalibus ilia; 

Ilia sub auroram lux mihi prima tulit, 
Te quoque pressa manentpatriis meditata cicutis ; 

Tu mihi, cui recitem, judicis instar eris. 



ELEGIA SEPTIMA. 
Anno cetatis undevigesimo. 

NoNDUM blanda tuas leges, Amathusia noram, 

Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit. 
Ssepe cupidineas, puerilia tela, sagittas, 

Atque tuum sprevi maxim.e numen, Amor. 
" Tu puer imbelles " dixi " transfige columbas ; 

Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duci : 
Aut de passeribus tumidos age, parve, triumphos ; 

Haec sunt militiae digna trophaea tuae. 
In genus humanum quid inania dirigis arma? 

Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros." 
Non tulit hoc Cyprius (neque enim Deus ullus ad iras 

Promptior), et duplici jam ferus igne calet. 
Ver erat, et summae radians per culmina villas 

Attulerat primam lux tibi, Maie, diem ; 
At mihi adhuc refugam quaerebant lumina noctem. 

Nee matutinum sustinuere jubar. 
Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis ; 

Prodidit astantem mota pharetra Deum ; 
Prodidit et facies, et dulce minantis ocelli, 

Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit. 
Talis in aeterno juvenis Sigeius Olympo 

Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi ; 
Aut, qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas, 

Thiodamantaeus Naiade raptus Hylas. 
Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares ; 

Addideratque truces, nee sine felle, minas. 
Et " Miser exemplo sapuisses tutius," inquit; 

"Nunc mea quid possit dextera testis eris. 



^ 



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LATIN POEMS. 591 

Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras, 

Et faciam vero per tua damna fidem. 
Ipse ego, si nescis, strato Pythone superbum 

Edomui Phcebum, cessit et ille mihi ; 
Et, quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur 

Certius et gravius tela nocere mea. 
Me nequit adductum curvare peritius arcum. 

Qui post terga solet vincere, Parthus eques : 
Cydoniusque mihi cedit venatoi, et ille 

Inscius uxori qui necis author erat. 
Est etiam nobis ingens quoque victus Orion, 

Herculccneque manus, Herculeusque comes. 
Jupiter ipse licet sua fulmina torqueat in me, 

Haerebunt lateri spicula nostra Jovis. 
C^etera qua; dubitas melius mea tela docebunt, 

Et tua non leviter corda petenda mihi. 
Nee te, stulte, tuas poterunt defendere Musa?; 
Nee tibi Phoeba^us porriget anguis opem." 
Dixit, et, aurato quatiens mucrone sagittam, 

Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus. 
At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore minaci, 

Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat. 
Et modo qua nostri spatiantur in urbe Quirites, 

Et modo villarum proxima rura placent. 
Turba frequens, facieque simillima turba dearum, 

Splendida per medias itque reditque vias ; 
Auctaque luce dies gemino fulgore coruscat. 

Fallor ? an et radios hinc quoque Phoebus habet ? 
Ha^c ego non fugi spectacula grata severus. 

Impetus et quo me fert juvenilis agor; 
Lumina luminibus male providus obvia misi. 

Neve oculos potui continuisse meos. 
Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam ; 

Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali. 
Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri. 
Sic regina Deiam conspicienda fuit. 



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4 



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592 LATIN POEMS. 

Hanc memor objecit nobis malus illc Cupido, 

Solus et hos nobis texuit ante dolos. 
Nee procul ipse vafer latuit, multaeque sagittal, 

Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus. 
Nee mora; nunc ciliis haesit, nunc virginis ori, 

Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis ; 
Et quascunque agilis partes jaculator oberrat, 

Hei mihi ! mille locis pectus inerme ferit. 
Protinus insoliti subierunt corda fuerores ; 

Uror amans intus, flammaque totus eram. 
Interea misero quae jam mihi sola placebat 

Ablata est, oculis non rcditura meis; 
Ast ego progredior tacite querebundus, et excors, 

Et dubius volui saepe referre pedem. 
Findor ; et haec remanet, sequitur pars altera votum 

Raptaque tam subito gaudia flere juvat 
Sic dolet amissum proles Junonia caslum, 

Inter Lemniacos pi secipitata focos ; 
Talis et abreptum soleni rcspexit ad Orcum 

Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus cquis. 
Quid faciam infelix, et lu tu victus ? Amores 

Nee licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi. 
O utinam spectare semel mihi detur amatos 

Vultus, et coram tristia verba loqui ! 
Forsitan et duro non est adamante creata, 

Forte nee ad nostras surdeat ilia preces ! 
Crede mihi, nullus sic infeliciter arsit ; 

Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego. 
Parce, precor, teneri cum sis Deus ales amoris; 

Puencnt officio nee tua facta tuo. 
Jam tuus O certe est mihi formidabilis arcus, 

Nate dea, jaculis nee minus igne potens : 
Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis, 

Solus et in Superis tu mihi summus eris. 
Deme meos tandem, verum nee deme, furores ; 

Nescio cur, miser est suaviter omnis amans : 



^ 



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a — ^ 

LATIN POEMS. 593 

Tu modo da facilis, posthaec mea siqua futura est, 
Cuspis amaturos figat ut una duos. 

H(2C ego mente olim Iccvd stndioqiie supino, 

Neguiiics posui vana troplicea inccB. 
Scilicet abreptum sic me mains ivipiilit error, 

Indocilisqiie cBtas prava magistra fuit ; 
Donee Socraticos 7imbrosa Acadeviia rivos 

PrcBbuit, adinissiim dedocuiique jvg inn. 
Protinus, extinctis ex illo tempore flaininis, 

Cineta rigent imdto pec torn nostra gelii ; 
Unde suis frigus metuit puer ipse sagittis, 

Et Diomedeam vim timet ipsa Venus. 

[EPTGRAMMATA.] 

IN PRODITIONEM BOMDARDICAM. 

Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasquc Britannos 

Ausus es infandum, perfide Fauxc, ncfas, 
Fallor? an et mitis voluisti ex parte vidcri, 

Et pensare mala cum pietate seel us ? 
Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria casli, 

Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis; 
Qualiter ille, feris caput inviolabile Parcis, 

Liquit lordanios turbine raptus agros. 

IN EANDEM. 

SicciNE tentasti cselo donasse lacobum, 

Quae septemgemino Bellua monte lates? 
Ni meliora tuum poterit darQ munera numen, 

Parce, precor, donis insidiosa tuis. 
Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit 

Astra, nee inferni pulveris usus ope. 
Sic potius foedos in caelum pelle cucullos, 

Et quot habet brutos Roma profana Decs : 
Namque hac aut alia nisi quemque adjuveris arte, 

Crede mihi, caeli vix bene scandet iter. 

38 

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594 



LATIN POEMS. 

IN EANDEM, 

PuRGATOREM animne deiisit lacobus igncm, 

Et sine quo superum non adeunda domus. 
Frenduit hoc trina monstrum Latiale corona, 

Movit et horrificum cornua dena minax. 
Et " Nee inultus" ait " temnes mea sacra, Britanne ; 

Supplicium spreta religione dabis ; 
Et, si stelligcras unquam penetraveris arces, 

Non nisi per flammas triste patebit iter." 
O quam funesto cecinisti proxima vcro, 

Verbaque pondcribus vix caritura suis ! 
Nam prope Tartareo sublime rotatus ab igni 

Ibat ad aethcreas, umbra perusta, plagas. 

IN EANDEM. 

QuEM modo Roma suis devovcrat impia diris, 
Et Styge damnarat, Tsenarioquc sinu, 

Hunc, vice mutata jam tollcre gcstit ad astra, 
Et cupit ad superos cvehcre usque Dcos. 

IN INVENTOREM BOMBARD^E. 

Lapetionidem laudavit csca vetustas. 

Qui tulit ajthercam solis ab axe facem ; 
At mihi majar erit qui lurida creditur arma 

Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi. 

AD LEONORAM ROM/E canentem. 
Angelus unicuique suus (sic credite, gentes) 

Obtigit aethcreis ales ab ordinibus. 
Quid mirum,. Leonora, tibi si gloria major? 

Nam tua prsesentem vox sonat ipsa Deum. 
Aut Deus, aut vacui certe mens tertia ca^li, 

Per tua secreto guttura serpit agens ; 
Serpit agens, facilisque docet mortalia corda 

Sensim immortali assuescere posse sono. 
Qu6d, si cuncta quidem Deus est, per cunctaque fusus, 

In te una loquitur, ca^tera mutus habet. 



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., 1 


V 


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LATIN POEMS. 


595 






AD HAND EM. 








Altera Torquatuni cepit Leonora poetam, 








Cujus ab insane cessit amore furens. 








Ah miser ille tuo quanto felicius aevo 








Perditus, et propter te, Leonora, foret! 


' 




Et te Pieria sensisset voce canentem 


i 




Aurea maternas fila movere lyrae! 


) 




Quamvis DircEEO torsisset lumina Pentheo 


i 




Ssevior, aut totus desipuisset iners, 






Tu tamen erantes cseca vertigine sensus ; 


■ 




Voce eadem poteras composuisse tua ; 


\ 
f 




Et poteras, aegro spirans sub corde quietem, 


I 

I 




Flexanimo cantu restituisse sibi. 






AD EANDEM, 






Credula quid liquidam Sirena, Neapoli, jactas, 






Claraque Parthenopes fana Acheloiados, 






Littoreamque tua defunctam Naiada ripa 






Corpore Chalcidico sacra dedisse rogo? 






Ilia quidem vivitque, et amoena Tibridis unda 






Mutavit rauci murmura Pausilipi. 






Illic, Romulidum studiis ornata sccundis, 






Atque homines cantu detinet atque Dcos. 






APOLOGUS DE RUSTICO ET HERO. 






RusTicus ex malo sapidissima poma quotannis 


i 




Legit, et urbano lecta dedit Domino : 


\ 




Hie, incredibili fructOs dulcedine captus, 






Malum ipsam in proprias transtulit areolas. 






Hactenus ilia ferax, sed longo debilis aevo, 






Mota solo assueto, protinus aret iners. 






Quod tandem ut patuit Domino, spe lusus inani, 






Damnavit celeres in sua damna manus ; 






Atque ait, "Heu quanto satius fuit ilia Coloni 






(Parva licet) grato dona tulisse animo ; 






Possem ego avaritiam fifenare, gulamque voracem : 








Nunc periere mihi et foetus et ipse parens." 






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r 


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J 


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•67 



^ 



/ 



596 LATIN POEMS. 

[de moko.] 
Galli ex concubitu gravidam tc, Poiitia, Mori 
Quis bene moratam morigeramque negct ? 

AD CHRISTINAM, SUECORUM REGINAM, NOMINE CROMWELLI. 

Bellipotens Virgo, Septem regina Trionum, 

Christina Arctoi lucida Stella poli ! 
Cernis quas merui dura sub casside rugas, 

Utque senex armis impiger ora tero, 
Invia fatorum dum per vestigia nitor, 

Exequor et populi fortia jussa manu. 
Ast tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra ; 

Nee sunt hi vultus Regibus usque truces. 

SYLVARUM LIBER. 

Anito crtatis 1 7._ 
IN OBITUM PROCAN'CELLARII MKDICL 

Parere Fati discite legibus, 
Manusque ParcsB jam date supplices. 
Qui pendulum telluris orbem 
lapeti colitis nepotes. 
Vos si relicto Mors vaga Taenaro 
Semel vocarit flebilis, heu ! morar 
Tentantur incassum doliquc ; 

Per tenebras Stygis ire certum est. 
Si destinatam pellere dextera 
Mortem valeret, non fcrus Hercules 
Nessi vencnatus cruorc 
-(Emathia jacuisset Q£ta ; 
Nee fraude turpi Palladis invida; 
Vidisset occisum Ilion Hectora, aut 
Quern larva Pelidis peremit 
Ense Locro, Jove lacrymante. 
Si triste Fatum verba Hecateia 
Fugare possint, Telegoni parens 



CT 



LATIN POEMS. 597 



Vixisset infamis, potentique 
yEgiali soror usa virga. 
Numenque trinum fallere si queant 
Artes mederiLum ignotaque gramina, 
Non gnarus herbarum Machaon 
Eurypyli cecidisset hasta ; 
Lsesisset et ncc te, Philyreie, 
Sagitta Echidnas perlita sanguine ; 
Nee tela te fulmenque avitum, 
Ca3se pucr genetricis alvo. 
Tuque, O alumno major Apolline, 
Gentis togatas cui regimen datum, 
. Frondosa quern nunc Cirrha luget, 

Et mediis Helicon in undis, 
Jam pr^efuisses Palladio gregi 
Laetus superstes, nee sine gloria ; 
Nee puppe lustrasses Charontis 
Horribiles barathri recessus. 
At fila rupit Persephone tua, 
Irata cum te viderit artibus 
Succoque pollcnti tot atris 
Faucibus eripuisse Mortis. 
Colende Prases, membra precor tua 
Molli quiescant cespite, et ex tuo 
Crescant rosa3 calthaeque busto, 
Purpureoque hyacinthus ore. 
Sit mite de te judicium ^aci, 
Subrideatque ^tuEea Proserpina, 
Interque felices perennis 
Elysio spatiere campo ! 

IN OUIxXTUM NOVEMBRIS. 
Anno atatis 17, 
Jam pius extrema veniens lacobus ab arcto 
Teucrigenas populos, Liteque patentia regna 
Albionum tenuit, jamque inviolabile fcedus 



4^ 



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f 



598 LATIN POEMS. 

Sceptra Caledoniis conjunxerat Anglica Scotis: 
Pacificusque novo, felix divesque, scdebat 
In solio, occultique doli securus et hostis : 
Cum ferus ignifluo regnans Acherontc tyrannus, 
Eumenidum pater, ZEthereo vagus exul Olympo, 
Forte per immensum terrarum erraverat orbem, 
Dinumerans sceleris socios, vernasque fideles, 
Participes regni post funera mcesta futuros. 
Hie tempestates medio ciet aere diras ; 
Illic unanimes odium struit inter amicos : 
Armat et invictas in mutua viscera gentes, 
Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace ; 
Et quoscunque videt purse virtutis amantes, 
Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudumque magister 
Tentat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus; 
Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes 
Tendit, ut incautos rapiat, ceu Caspia tigris 
Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia pr^dam 
Nocte sub illuni, et somno nictantibus astris. 
Talibus infestat populos Summanus et urbes, 
Cinctus caeruleae fumanti turbine flammie. 
Jamque fluentisonis albentia rupibus arva 
Apparent, et terra Deo dilecta marine, 
Cui nomen dederat quondam Ncptunia proles, 
Amphitryoniaden qui non dubitavit atrocem, 
^quore tranato, furiali poscere bello, 
Ante expugnat£B crudelia saecula Trojro. 

At simul banc opibusque et festa pace beatam, 
Aspicit, et pingues donis Cerealibus agros, 
Quodque magis doluit, venerantem numina veri 
Sancta Dei populum tandem suspiria rupit 
Tartareos ignes et luridum olentia sulphur ; 
Qualia Trinacria trux ab Jove clausus in yEtna 
Efflat tabifico monstrosus ab ore Typhceus. 
Ignescunt oculi, stridetque adamantinus ordo 
Dentis, ut armorum fragor, ictaque cuspidc cuspis; 



^ 



^ . 

LATIN POEMS. 599 

Atque " Pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 
Inveni " dixit ; " gens haec mihi sola rebellis, 
Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. 
Ilia tamen, mea si quicquam tentamina possunt, 
Non feret hoc impune diu, non ibit inulta." 
Hactenus; et piceis iiquido natat aere pennis : 
Qua volat, adversi praecursant agmine venti, 
Densantul nubes, et crebra tonitrua fulgent. 

Jamque pruinosas velox superaverat Alpes, 
Et tenet Ausoniae fines. A parte sinistra 
Nimbifer Apcnninus erat, priscique Sabini ; 
Dextra veneficiis infamis Hetruria ; nee non 
Te furtiva, Tibris, Thetidi videt oscula dantem : 
Hinc Mavortigenae consistit in arce Quirini. 
Reddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula lucem, 
Cum circumgreditur totam Tricoronifer urbem, 
Panificosque Deos portat, scapulisque virorum 
Evehitur ; praeeunt submisso poplite rcgcs, 
Et mendicantiim series longissima-fratrum ; 
Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia caeci, 
Cimmeriis nati in tenebris vitamque trahentes. 
Templa dein multis subeunt luccntia taedis 
(Vesper erat sacer iste Petro), fremitusque canentiim 
Saepe tholos implet vacuos, et inane locorum : 
Qualiter exulula^ Bromius, Bromiique caterva, 
Orgia cantantes in Echionio Aracyntho, 
Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus jn undis, 
Et procul ipse cava responsat rupe Cithaeron. 

His igitur tandem solenni more pcractis, 
Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit, 
Prsecipitesque impellit equos stimulante flagello, 
Captum oculis Typhlonta, Melanchaetemque ferocem, 
Atque Acherontaeo prognatam patre Siopen 
Torpidam et hirsutis horrentem Phrica capillis. 

Interea regum domitor, Phlegetontius hteres, 
Ingreditur thalamos (neque enim secretus adulter 

4— d^ 



a- 



—A 



600 LATIN POEMS. 

Producit steriles molli sine pelHce noctes) ; 
At vix composites somnus claudebat ocellos 
Cum niger umbrarum dominus rectorque silentum, 
Praedatorque hominum, falsa sub imagine tectus 
Astitit. Assumptis micuerunt tempora canis ; 
Barba sinus promissa tegit ; cineracea longo 
Syrmate verrit humuni vestis; pendetque cucullus 
Vertice de raso; et, ne quicquam desit ad artes, 
Cannabeo lumbos constrinxit fune salaces, 
Tarda fencstratis figens vestigia calceis. 
Talis, uti fama est, vasta Franciscus eremo 
Tetra vagabatur solus per lustra ferarum, 
Sylvestrique tulit genti pia verba salutis 
Impius, atque lupos domuit, Libycosque leones. 

Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus amictu 
Solvit in has fallax ora execrantia voces : 
" Dormis, nate? Etiamne tuos sopor oppriniit artus? 
Immemor O fidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum ! 
Duni cathedram, venerande, tuam diadcmaque triplex 
Ridet Hyperboreo gens barbara nata sub axe, 
Dumque pharetrati spernunt tua jura Britanni : 
Surge, age ! surge piger, Latius quern Caesar adorat, 
Cui reserata patet convexi janua caeli ; 
Turgentes nnimos et fastus frange procaces, 
Sacrilegique sciant tua quid maledictio possit, 
Et quid Apostolicae possit custodia clavis ; 
Et memor Hesperiae disjectam ulciscere classem, 
Mersaque Iberorum lato vexilla profundo, 
Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probrosae, 
Thermodoontca nuper regnante puella. 
At tu si tencro mavis torpescere lecto, 
'Crescentesque ncgas hosti contundere vires, 
Tyrrhenum implebit numeroso milite pontum, 
Signaque Aventino ponet fulgcntia colle ; 
Relliquias veterum franget, flammisque cremabit, 
Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua colla profanis, 



^ 



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s -^ 

LATIN POEMS. 60 1 

Cujus gaudebant soleis dare basia reges. 
Nee tamen hunc bellis et aperto Marte lacesses ; 
Irritus ille labor ; tu callidus utere fraude : 
Quaelibet hsereticis disponere retia fas est. 
Jamque ad consilium extremis rex magnus ab oris 
Patricios vocat, et procerum de stirpe creatos, 
Grandoevosque patres trabea canisque verendos : 
Hos tu membratim poteris conspergere in auras, 
Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pulveris igne 
yEdibus injecto, qua convenere, sub imis. 
Protinus ipse igitur quoscunque habet Anglia fides 
Propositi factique mone : quisquamne tuorum 
Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papze? 
Perculsosque metu subito, casuque stupentes, 
Invadat vel Gallus atrox, vel siBvus Iberus. 
Saecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, 
Tuque in bslligeros iterum dominaberis Anglos. 
Et nequid timeas, divos divasque secundas 
Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis." 
Dixit, et adscitos ponens malefidus amictus 
Fugit ad infandam, regnum illaetabile, Lethen. 

Jam rosea Eoas pandens Tithonia portas 
Vestit inauratas redeunti lumine terras; 
Moestaque adhuc nigri deplorans funera nati 
Irrigat ambrosiis montana cacumina guttis; 
Cum somnos pepulit stellatae janitor aulae, 
Nocturnos visus et somnia grata revolvens. 

Est locus a3terna septus caligine noctis, 
Vasta ruinosi quondam fundamina tecti, 
Nunc torvi spelunca Phoni, Prodotaeque bilinguis, 
Effera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. 
Hie inter caemcnta jacent pr^eruptaque saxa 
Ossa inhumata virum, et trajecta cadavera ferro ; 
Hie Dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis. 
Jurgiaque, et stimulis armata Calumnia fauces; 
Et Furor, atque vise moriendi mille, videntur, 

4- ^ 



6o2 LATIN POEMS. 

Et Timor; exanguisque locum circumvolat Horror; 

Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes 

Exululant; tellus et sanguine conscia stagnat. 

Ipsi etiam pavidi latitant penetralibus antri 

Et Phonos et Prodotes; nulloque sequentc per antrum. 

Antrum horrens, scopulosum, atrum, feralibus umbris, 

Diffugiunt sontcs, et retro lumina vortunt. 

Hos pugiles RomjE per sascula longa fideles 

Evocat antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur : 

" Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit a^quor 

Gens exosa mihi; prudcns Natura negavit 

Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo. 

Illuc, sic jubeo, celcri contcnditc gressu, 

Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras 

Et rex et paritcr satrapae scelerata propago ; 

Et quotquot fidei caluerc cupidine vcrae 

Consilii socios adhibetc, opcrisque ministros." 

Finierat : rigidi cupide paruere gemelli. 

Intcrea longo flectens curvamine c?elos 
Despicit aetherea Dominus qui fulgurat arce, 
Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbae, 
Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. 

Esse ferunt spatium qua distat ab Aside terra 
Fertilis Europe, et spectat Mareotidas undas; 
Hie turris posita est Titanidos ardua Famae, 
^rea, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris 
Quam superimpositum vel Athos vel Pelion Ossae. 
Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestrae, 
Amplaque per tenues translucent atria muros. 
Excitat hie varios plebs agglomerata susurros; 
Qualiter instrepitant circum mulctralia bombis 
Agmina muscarum aut texto per ovilia junco, 
Dum Canis a.'stivum ca^Ii petit ardua culmen. 
Ipsa quidem summa sedet ultrix matris in arce : 
Auribus innumeris cinctum caput eminet oUi, 
Quels sonitum exiguum trahit, atque levissima captat 



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'■ 6b 

LATIN POEMS. 603 



Murmura, ab extremis patuli confinibus orbis ; 
Nee tot, Aristoride, servalor inique juvencae 
Isidos, immiti volvebas luniina vultu, 
Lumnia non unquam tacito nutantia somno, 
Lumina subjectas late spcctantia terras. 
Istis ilia solet loca luce carentia sjepe 
Perlustrare, etiani radianti impervia soli ; 
Millenisque loquax auditaque visaque Unguis 
Cuilibet effundit temeraria; veraque mendax 
Nunc minuit modo confictis sermonibus auget. 
Sed tamen a nostrO meruisti carmine laudes, 
Fama, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum, 
Nobis digna cani, nee tc memorassepigebit 
Carmine tarn longo ; scrvati scilicet Angli 
Officiis vaga diva, tuis tibi reddimus aequa. 
Te Deus aeternos motu qui temperat igncs, 
Fulmine praemisso, alloquitur, tcrraque trcmente: 
'! Fama, siles ? an te latet inipia Papistarum 
Conjurata cohors.in meque meosque Britannos, 
Et nova sccptrigero caedes mcditata lacobo ?" 
Nee plura: ilia statim sensit mandata Tonantis, 
Et satis ante fugax, stridentes induit alas, 
Induit et variis exilia corpora plumis; 
Dextra tubam gestat Temesaeo ex sere sonoram. 
Nee mora; jam pennis cedendes remigat auras, 
Atque parum est cursu celeres praevertere nubes; 
Jam ventos, jam solis equos, post terga reliquit: 
Et primo Angliacas, solito de more, per urbes 
Ambiguas voces incertaque murmura spargit ; 
Mox arguta dolos et detestabile vulgat 
Proditionis opus, nee non facta horrida dictu, 
Authoresque addit sceleris, nee garrula caecis 
Insidiis loca structa silet. Stupuere relatis, 
Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puellae, 
Effoetique senes pariter, tantasque ruinae 
Sensus ad aetatem subito penetraverat omnem. 



^ 



c:^ 



■tj 



-a 



604 LATIN POEMS. 

Attamen interea populi miscrescit ab alto 
^thereus Pater, ct crudelibus obstitit ausis 
Papicolum. Capti poenas raptantur ad acres: 
At pia thura Deo ct grati solvuntur honorcs ; 
Compita laeta focis genialibus omnia fumant; 
Turba chores juvenilis agit ; Quintoquc Novcmbris 
Nulla dies toto occurrit celebratior anno. 

Anno (Xtatis 17. 
IN OBITUM PR.ESULIS ELIENSIS. 

Adhuc madentes rore squalebant genae, 

Et sicca nc^ndum lumina 
Adhuc liquentis imbre turgebant salis 

Quern nupcr eftlidi pius 
Dum" moesta charo justa persolvi rogo 

Wintoniensis Praesulis, 
Cum centilinguis Fama (proh ! semper mail 

Cladisque vera nuntia) 
Spargit per urbes divitis Britanniae, 

Populosque Neptuno satos, 
Cessisse morti et ferreis Sororibus, 

Te, generis human! decus, 
Qui rex sacrorum ilia fuisti in insula 

Qu[ie nomen Anguillae tenet. 
Tunc inquietum pectus ira protinus 

Ebulliebat fervida, 
Tumulis potentem stupe devovens deam : 

Nee vota Naso in Ibida 
Concepit alto diriora pectore; 

Graiusque vates parcius 
Turpem Lycambis execratus est dolum, 

Sponsamque Neobulen suam. 
At ecce ! diras ipse dum fundo graves, 

Et imprecor Neci necem, 
Audisse tales videor attonitus sonos 

Leni sub aura, flamine : 



^ 



■4^ 



f 






LATIN POEMS. 

" Csecos furores pone; pone vitream 

Bilemque et irritas minas. 
Quid temere violas non nocenda numina, 

Subitoque ad iras pcrcita? 
Non est, ut arbitraris elusus miser, 

Mors atia Noctis filia, 
Erebove patre creta, sive Erinnye, 

Vastove nata sub Chao : 
Ast ilia, cDslo missa stellate, Dei 

Messes ubique colligit; 
Animasque mole carnea reconditas 

In lucem et auras evocat, 
(Ut cum fugaces excitant Horge diem, 

Themidos Jovisque filias) 
Et Sempitcrni ducit ad vultus Patris, 

At justa raptat impios 
Sub regna furvi luctuosa Tartari 

Sedesque subterraneas. 
Hanc ut vocantem leetus audivi, cito 

Foedum reliqui carcerem, 
Volatilesque faustus inter milites 

Ad astra sublimis feror, 
Vates ut olim raptus ad ca3lum senex, 

Auriga currus ignei, 
Non me Bootis terruere lucidi 

Sarraca tarda frigore, aut 
Formidolosi Scorpionis brachia ; 

Non ensis, Orion, tuus. 
Praetervoiavi fulgidi solis globum ; 

Longeque sub pedibus deam 
Vidi triformem, dum coercebat suos 

Frtenis dracones aureis. 
Erraticorum siderum per ordines, 

Per lacteas vehor plagas, 
Velocitatem siepe miratus novam, 

Donee nitentes ad fores 



605 



^ 



<P 



a Qp 

606 LATIN POEMS. 

Ventum est Olympi, ct regiam crystallinam, et 

Stratum smaragdis atrium. 
Sed hie taeebo, nam quis effari queat 

Oriundus humano patre 
Amoenitates illius loci? Mihi 

Sat est in ceternum frui." 

NATURAM NGN PATI SENIUM. 

Heu! quam rerpetuis erroribus acta fatiscit 

Avia mens hominum, tenebrisquc immersa profundis 

CEdipodioniam volvit sub pectorc noctem ! 

Ouo3 vesana suis metiri facta deorum 

Audet, et incisas leges adamante percnni 

Assimilare suis, nulloque solubile sceclo 

Consilium Fati perituris alligat horis. 

Ergonc marcescet sulcantibus obsita rugis 
Naturro facies, et rerum publica Mater, 
Omniparum contracta uterum, sterilescet ab k3vo ? 
Et, se fassa senem, male certis passibus ibit 
Sidereum tremebunda caput? Num tetra vetustas 
Annorumque ?eterna fames, squalorque situsquc, 
Sidera vexabunt? An et insatiabile Tempus 
Esuriet Cajlum, raoietque in vicera patreni ? 
Heu ! potuitne suas imprudens Jupiter arccs 
Hoc contra munisse nefas, et Temporis isto 
Exemisse malo, gyrosque dedisse perennes ? 
Ergo erit ut quandoque, sono dilapsa tremendo, 
Convex! tabulata ruant, atque obvius ictu 
Stridat uterque polus, supcraque ut Olympius aula 
Decidat, horribilisque retecta Gorgone Pallas ; 
Qualis in yEgooam proles Junonia Lemnon 
Deturbata sacro cecidit de limme croli. 
Tu quoque, Phoebe, tui casus imitabere nati 
Praecipiti curru, subitaque ferere ruina 
Pronus, et extincta fumabit lampade Nereus, 
Et dabit attonito feralia sibila ponto. 



t: 



LA TIN POEMS. 607 

Tunc ctiam aerei divulsis scdibus Haemi 
Dissultabit apex, imoque allisa-barathro 
Terrebunt Stygium dejecta Ceraunia Ditem, 
In superos quibus usus erat, fraternaque bella. 
At Pater Omnipotens, fundatis fortius astris, 
Consuluit rerum summse, certoque peregit 
Pondera Fatorum lances, atque ordine summo 
Singula perpetuum jussit servare tenorcm. 
Volvitur hinc lapsu Mundi rota prima diurno, 
Raptat et ambitos socia vcrtiginc cjclos. 
Tardior baud solito Saturnus, ct accr ut olim 
Fulmincum rutilat cristata casside Mavors. 
Floridus aeternum Phoebus juvenile coruscat, 
Nee fovet eftbetas loca per dcclivia terras 
Devexo temone Deus ; scd semper, amica 
Luce potens, cadem currit per signa rotarum. 
Surgit odoratis pariter forn-iosus ab Indis 
^thereum pecus albenti qui cogit Olympo, 
Mane vocans, ct serus agens in pascua caeli; 
Tempons et gemino dispertit regna colore. 
Fulget, obitque vices alterno Delia cornu, 
Caeruleumque ignem paribus complectitur ulnis. 
Nee variant elementa fidem, solitoque fragore 
Lurida perculsas jaculantur fulmina rupes. 
Nee per inane furit leviori murmure Corus ; 
Stringit et armiferos aequali horrore Gelonos 
Trux Aquilo, spiratque hiemen, nimbospue volutat. 
Utque solet, Siculi diverberat ima Pelori 
Rex maris, et rauca circumstrepit a^quora concha 
Oceani Tubicen, nee vasta mole minorem 
^gseona ferunt dorso Balearica cete. 
Sed neque, Terra, tibi ssecli vigor ille vetusti 
Prisons abest; servatque suum Narcissus odorem; 
Et puer ille suum tenet, et puer ille, decorum, 
Phoebe, tuusque, et, Cypri, tuus ; nee ditior olim 
Terra datum sceleri celavit montibus aurum 



'-"ty- 



--4^ 



'^ -^ 

608 LATIN POEMS. 

Conscia vel sub aquis gemmas. Sic denique in tevum 
Ibit cunctarum series justissima rerum ; 
Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, kite 
Circumplexa polos et vasti culmina creU, 
Ingentique rogo (lagrabit machina Mundi. 

DE IDEA PLATONICA QUEMADMODUM ARISTOTELES INTELLEXtT. 

DiciTE sacroruni prresides nemorum dcae, 
Tuque O noveni perbeata nu minis 
Memoria mater, quaeque in immenso procul 
Antro recumbis otiosa -^ternitas, 
Monumenta scrvans, et ratas leges Jovis, 
Ceelique fastos atque ephcmeridas Deum, 
Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 
Natura solcrs finxit humanum genus, 
^ternus, incorruptus, a^qucevus polo, 
Unusque et univcrsus, exemplar Dei? 
Haud ille, Palladis gemellus innubae^ 
Interna proles insidet menti Jovis ; 
Sed, quamlibet natura sit communior, 
Tamen seorsus extat ad morem unius, 
Et, mira! certo stringitur spatio loci: 
Seu sempiternus ille siderum comes 
Caeli pererrat ordincs decemplicis, 
Citimumve terris incolit Lunae globum ; 
Sive, inter animas corpus adituras sedens, 
Obliviosas torpet ad Lethes aquas ; 
Sive in remota forte terrarum plaga 
Incedit ingcns hominis archetypus gigas, 
Et diis tremendus erigit cclsum caput, 
Atlanta, major portitore siderum. 
Non, cui profundum ccecitas lumen dedit, 
Dircffius augur v:d!t hunc alto sinu; 
Non hunc silenti nocte Pleiones nepos 
Vatum sagaci praepes ostendit choro; 
Non hunc saccrdos novit Assyrius, licet 



^ 



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LATIN POEMS. 609 



Longos vetusti commemoret atavos Nini, 
Priscumque Belon, inclytumque Osiriclem ; 
Non ille trino gloriosus nomine 
Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens) 
Talem reliquit Isidis ciiltoribus. 
At tu, peienne ruris Acadcmi decus, 
(Ha;c monstra si tu primus induxti scholis) 
Jam jam poetas, urbis exules tuas, 
Revocabis, ipse Tabulator maxim us ; 
Aut institutor ipse migrabis foras. 

AD PATREM. 

Nunc mea Pierios cupiam per pectora fontes 
Irriguas torquere viaSj totumque per ora 
Volvere laxatum gemino de verticc rivum ; 
Ut, tenues oblita sonos, audacibus alias 
Surgat in officium venerandi Musa parentis. 
Hoc utcunque tibi gratum pater optime, carmen 
Exiguum meditatur opus; nee novimus ipsi 
Aptius a nobis quai possint niunera donis 
Respondere tuis, quamvis nee maxima possint 
Respondere tuis, ncdum ut par gratia donis 
Esse queat vacuis quae redditur arida verbis. 
Sed tamen haec nostros ostendit pagina census, 
Et quod habemus opum charta numeravimus ista, 
Quae mihi sunt nullae nisi quas dedit aurea Clia, 
Quas mihi semoto somni peperere sub antro, 
Et nemoris laureta sacri, Parnassides umbrae. 

Nee tu, vatis opus, divinum despice carmen, 
Quo nihil aethereos ortus et semina caeli, 
Nil magis humanam commendat origine mentem, 
Sancta Promethes retinens vestigia flammae. 
Carmen amant Superi, tremebundaque Tartara carmen 
Imaciere valet divosque ligare profundos, 
Et triplici duros Manes adamante coercet. 
Carmine sepositi retegunt arcana futuri 

39 

'^ -^ 



6 10 LATIN POEMS. 

Phoebades, et tremulae pallcntes ora Sibyllse; 
Carniina sacrificus sollennes pangit ad aras, 
Aurea seu sternit motantem cornua taurum, 
Seu cum fata sagax fumantibus abdita fibris 
Consulit, et tepidis Parcam scrutatur in extis. 
Nos ctiam, partrium tunc cum repctemus Olympum, 
^Eternceque morse stabunt immobilis sevi, 
Ibimus auratis per cosli templa coronis, 
Dulcia suaviloquo sociantes carmina plectro, 
Astra quibus geminique poli convcxa sonabunt. 
Spin'tus et rapidos qui circinat igneus orbes 
Nunc quoque sidereis intercinit ipse choreis 
Immortale melos et inenarrabile carmen, 
Torrida dum rutilus compescit sib'Ia Serpens, 
Demissoque ferox gladio mansuescit Orion, 
Stellarum nee sentit onus Maurusius Atlas. 
Carmina regale epulas ornare solebant, 
Cum nondum luxus, vastasque immensa vorago 
Nota gulae, et modico spumabat coena Lyaeo. 
Tum de more sedens festa ad convivia vates, 
^sculea intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines 
Heroumque actus miitandaque gesta canebat, 
Et Chaos, et positi late fundamina Mundi, 
Reptantesque deos, et alentes numina glandes, 
Et nondum .Etnaeo quassitum fulmen ab antro. 
Denique quid vocis modulamen inane juvabit, 
Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis ? 
Silvestres decet iste choros, non Orphea, cantus, 
Qui tenuit fluvios, et quercubus addidit aures, 
Carmine, non cithara, simulacraque functa canendo 
Compulit in lacrymas : habet has a carmine laud. 
Nee tu perge, precor, sacras contemnere Musas, 
Nee vanas inopesque puta, quarum ipse peritus 
Munere mille sonos numeros componis ad aptos, 
Millibus et vocem modulis variare canoram 
Doctus Arionii merito sis nominis litres. 

^ -4" 



^ 



^ 

LATIN POEMS. 6ii 



Nunc tibi quid mirum si me genuisse poetam 
Contigerit, charo si tarn prope sanguine juncti, 
Cognatas artes, studiumque affine sequamur? 
Ipse volens Phcebus se dispertire duobus, 
Altera dona mihi, dedit altera dona parenti ; 
Dividuumque Dcum, genitorque puerque tenemus. 

Tu tamen ut simulcs teneras odisse Camoenas, 
Non odisse reor. Ncque enim pater, ire jubepas 
Qua via lata patct, qua pronior area lucri, 
Certaque condendi fulget spes aurea numnii ; 
Nee rapis ad leges, male Custoditaque gentis 
Jura ncc insulsis damnas clamoribus aures. 
Sed, magis excultam cupiens ditescere mentem, 
Me, procul urbane strepitu, secessibus altis 
Abductum, Aonise jucunda per otia ripae, 
Phsebseo lateri comitem sinis ire beatum. 
Officium chari taceo commune parentis; 
Me poscunt majora. Tuo, pater optime, sumptu 
Cum mihi Romuleae patuit facundia lingua3, 
Et Latii veneres, ct qu?e Jovis ora decebant 
Grandia magniloquis elata vocabula Graiis, 
Addere suasisti quos jactat Gallia flores, 
Et quam degeneri novus Italus ore loquelam 
Fundit, barbaricos testatus voce tumultus, 
Qu£equ2 Palsestinus loquitur mysteria vates. 
Denique quicquid habet caelum, subjectaque ca;lo 
Terra parens, terra^que et caelo interfluus acr. 
Quicquid et unda tegit, pontique agitabile marmor. 
Per te nosse licet, per te, si nosse libebit ; 
Dimotaque venit spectanda Scientia nube, 
Nudaque conspicuos inclinat ad oscula vultus, 
Ni fugisse velim, ni sit libasse molestum. 

I nunc, confer opes, quisquis malesanus avitas 
Austriaci gazas Periianaque regna praeoptas. 
Quae potuit majora pater tribuisse, vel ipse 
Jupiter, excepto, donasset ut omnia, caelo ? 



<^ -^7 

6i2 LATIN POEMS. 

Non potiora dedit, quamvis et tuta fui'-.sent, 
Publica qui juveni commisit luniina nato, 
Atque Hyperionios currus, et fraena diei, 
Et circum undantem radiata luce tiarem. 
Ergo ego, jam doctx pars quamlibct ima catervse, 
Victrices hedcras inter laurosque scdcbo ; 
Jamque ncc obscurus populo misccbor incrti, 
Vitabuntque oculos vestigia nostra profanes. 
Este procul vigiles Curae, procul cstc Qucrelse, 
Invidia^que acies transverso tortilis hirquo ; 
Sa;va ncc anguiferos extende, Calumnia, rictus ; 
In me triste nihil, foedissima turba, potestis, 
Ncc vestri sum juris ego; securaque tutu 3 
Pcctora vipereo gradiar sublimis ab ictu. 

At tibi, chare pater, postquam non £equ:; mercnti 
Posse referre datur, nee dona rependeie factis, 
Sit memorasse satis, repetitaque munera grato 
Pcrccnsere animo, fida:'que reponere menti. 

Et vos, O nostri, juvenilia carmina, lusus. 
Si modo perpetuos sperare audebitis annos, 
Et domini superesse rogo, lucemque tueri, 
Nee spisso rapient obi i via nigra sub Oreo, 
Forsitan has laudes, decantatumque parentis 
Nomeiij ad exemplum, sero servabitis ievo> 

PSALM CXIV. 

Aij TOTS fxouvov erjv oatov yiuo^ uif- 'In'jda' 
' Ev 8s 0zd' lainnt jjAya 7.pzi(ji\> (ifxaiXzutv^ 
E}8s y.ai ivrf>(i~d8rjv <f6ya8' ippcHr^fTs Or'i.Xa(r<Taj 
KopMTi ztku;).rj.irj poO'uy 6 (5' «/>' i(T7o<fzki^0-^ 
Ifjo^ 'Itif/(ld>rj^ TZdTi dpyuposcdia Tzriyr^.'' 
^Ey. <V onza (jy.apOiKnfftv drztipiffta y.hr/itrjro^ 
'ii~ y.pttn (j<finy('>u>v7sq iorpacpspuj i)/ dXu>7i' 
hawTzpai d^ aria ~a<Tat d'/a(Txi/>zr^(Tav spi-vu:^ 

^ _4 



LATIN POEMS. 613 

0}a ~apru aupiyyi (fO~r^ u-u /j.rjzipi ap'^f-. 

Ti~rt ffoy* , aha OaXfiaaa^ ~iXu)p (fuya<V Ip" pwr^rro.' 

huiiari ziXop.ivrj poOiip; ri d' up larutftliyOrj:; 

'fpu<; 'I(ip8d'/7j -«r« apyupoetdia ~f^yrf^ ; 

Ti~~^ opza ay.apOpAilav^ d.-tipia'.a '/.Xo'^izfrOz^ 

'ii-; xpun G<ppty6u)v~s' iuTpa<ftpip Iw aXuiij J 

Bato-tpai Tt' 8' «'«' ufj.fis'; d^affxtpTrjffar^ ipiTzvac, 

Ola TtapdX ai'jpiyyi (fiXi^ utzu p-r^ripi apve-; ; 

Zeizo yata rpiouaa 6zdv /xsydX^ ixru-iovra, 

Fata deov rpsioua^ uTzarov ai^aq 'laaa/.idao, 

"Oq Tt xai Ix ff-tXdoujv Tturaiiuhq ^cs p-opriopo'^raq^ 

hpry/rfj r' Mcvaov —izpr^q d-u daxpooiaar^q. 

PJiilosopIius ad Reg:in qiiendamy qi/ieiim tgnoiitm et insontin inter reos forte 
captiitn inscius damnaverat, zrjv i-} Oa^dnp -Dpzoo'j.zvoq hisc subito misit. 

Q^iv^a^ zl oXiar^z p.- Toy iwnp.ov, audi r;v' dyrJpui'yi 
Az'.'>uv oXioq opatravra, (TOipmraToy I'ffOt xdprjyoy 
' Prfidicjq dtpiXatit^ zu (?' uffrspov auOi yorjerzi^^ 
3Ia(/".dt(uq d' ap' e'-scra rzw ~poq Oupw 68oprj, 
Toto'/d^ tx -oXioq -sptojyup.ov aX.xap 6Xi(F<Taq. 

In effigiei ejus sculptorem. 

^ Ap.aOzl yzypdJiOat j(sip\ rrj^ds p.kv eixu/a 
^at'rjq rdy^ ilv, Tzpuq sldoq abrowukq jSXijrwv. 
Tw 8' ixTvnwzov oux i-cyvoyzsq^ (piXot^ 
FzXdzz (puuXou 8uffp.c'/irjp.a ^luypdcpou. 



AD SALSILLUM POETAM ROMANUM .EGROTANTEM. SCAZONTES. 

O MusA gressum quae volens trahis claudum, 
Vulcanioque tarda gaudes incessu, 
Nee sentis illud in loco minus gratum 
Quam cum decentes flava Deiope suras 
Alternat aureum ante Junonis lectum. 
Adcsdum, ct haec s'is verba pauca Salsillo 
Refer, Camcena nostra cui tantum est cordi, 



^ 



s- 



^ 



614 LATIN POEMS. 

Quamque ille inagnis prsetulit immerito divis. 
Hcec ergo alumnus ille Londini Milto, 
Diebus hisce qui suum linquens nidum 
Polique tractum (pessimus ubi ventorum, 
Insanientis impotensque pulmonis, 
Pernix anhela sub Jove exercet flabra) 
Venit fcraces Itali soli ad glebas, 
Visum superba cognitas urbes fama, 
Virosque, doctaeque indolem juventutis, 
Tibi optat idem hie fausta multa, Salsille, 
Habitumque fesso corpori penitus sanum; 
Cui nunc profunda biiis infestat renes, 
Prtecordiisque fixa damnosum spirat; 
Nee id pcpercit impia quod tu Romano 
Tarn cultus, ore Lesbium condismelos. 
O dulce divum munus, O Salus, Hebes 
Germana ! Tuque, Phoebe! morborum terror, 
Pythone cjeso, sive tu magis PcTan 
Libenter audis, hie tuus sacerdos est. 
Quereeta Fauni, vosque rore vinoso 
Colles benigni, mitis Evandri sedes, 
Siquid salubre vallibus frondet vcstris, 
Levamen segro ferte certatim vati. 
Sic ille charis redditus rursiim Musis 
Vicina dulci prata mulcebit cantu. 
Ipse inter atros emirabitur locos 
Numa, ubi beatum degit otium neternum, 
Suam reclivis semper ^geriam spectans ; 
Tumidusque et ipse Tibris, hinc delinitus, 
Spci favebit annuce colonorum ; 
Nee in sepulchris ibit obsessum reges, 
Nimium sinistro laxus irruens loro; 
Sed fraena melius temperabit undarum, 
Adusque curvi salsa regna Portumni. 



^ # 



^ ^ ^ 

LATIN POEMS. 615 

MANSUS. 

Joannes Baptista Mansus, Marchio Villensis, vir ingenii laude, turn literarum studio, nee 
non et bellica virtute, apud Italos clarus in primis est. Ad quem Torquati Tassi Dialogus 
extat de Amicitia scriptus; erat enim Tassi amicissimus; ab qiio etiam inter Campanias 
principes celebratur, in illo poemata cui titulus Gerusalemme Conquistata, lib. 20. 

Fra cavalier magnanimi e cortesi 
Risplende il Manso 

Is authorem, Neapoli commorantem, summa benevolentia prosecutus est, multaque ei 
detulit humanitatis officia. Ad hunc itaque hospes ille, aniequam ab ea urbe discederet, 
ut ne ingratum se ostenderet, hoc carmen misit. 

H^c quoque, manse, tuae meditantur carmina laudi 
Fierides ; tibi, Manse, choro notissime Phcebi, 
Quandoquidem ille alium haud aequo est dignatus honore, 
Post Gain cineres, et Meccenatis Hetrusci. 
Tu quoque, si nostras tantuni valet aura CamcEnae, 
Victrices hederas inter laurosque sedebis. 
Te pridem magno felix concordia Tasso 
Junxit, et aeternis inscripsit nomina chartis. 
Mox tibi dulciloquuni non inscia Musa Marinum 
Tradidit; ille tuum dici se gaudct alumnum, 
Dum canit Assyrios divCim prolixus amores, 
Mollis et Ausonias stupefecit carmine nymphas. 
Ille itidem moriens tibi soli, debita vates 
Ossa, tibi soli, supremaque vota reliquit : 
Nee Manes pietas tua chara fefellit amici ; 
Vidimus arridentem operoso ex a^re poetam. 
Nee sitis hoc visum est in utrumque, et nee pia cessant 
Officia in tumulo ; cupis integros rapere Oreo, 
Qua potes, atque avidas Parcarum eludere leges : 
Amborum genus, et varia sub sorte peractam 
Describis vitam, moresque, et dona Minerva^; 
^mulus illius Maycalen qui natus ad altam 
Rettulit yEolii vitam facundus Homeri. 
Ergo ego te, Cliijs et magni nomine Phcebi, 
Manse patet, jubeo longum salvere per sevum, 
Missus Hyperboreo juvenis peregrinus ab axe. 
Nee tu longinquam bonus aspernabere Musam, 



^ 



6i6 LATIN POEMS. 

Quae nuper, gelida vix enutrita sub Arcto, 
Imprudens Italas ausa est volitare per ubes. 
Nos etiam in nostro modulantes flumine cygnos 
Credimus obscuras noctis sensisse per umbras, 
Qua Thamesis late puris argenteus urnis 
Oceani glaucos perfundit gurgite crinc? ; 
Quin et in has quondam pervcnit Tityrus oras. 

Scd neque nos genus incultum, nee inutile Phoebo, 
Qua plaga septeno mundi sulcata Trione 
Brumalem patitur longa sub nocte Booten. 
Nos etiam colimus Phoebum, nos munera Phoebo, 
Flaventes spicas, et lutca mala canistris, 
Halantcmque crocum (perhibet nisi vana vetustas) 
Misimus, et Icctas Druidum de gente choreas. 
(Gens Druides antiqua sacris operata deoruni, 
Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta cancbant.) 
Plinc quaties festo cingunt altaria cantu 
Delo in herbosa Graiae de more puellse, 
Carminibus lastis momorant Corineida Loxo, 
Fatidicamque Upin, cum flavicoma Hecaerge, 
Nuda Caledonio variatas pectora fuco. 

Fortunate senex! ergo quacunque per orbem 
Torquati decus et nomen celebrabitur ingens, 
Claraque perpetui succrescet fama Marini, 
Tu quoque in ora frequcns venies plausumque virorum, 
Et parili carpes iter immortale volatu. 
Dicetur tum sponte tuos habitasse penates 
Cynthius, et fam.ulas venisse ad limina Musas. 
At non sponte dumom tamen idem et regis adivit 
Rura PhcrctiadcTE c;t31o fugitivus Apollo, 
Ille licet magnum Alcidcn susccperat hospes; 
Tantum, ubi clamosos placuit vitare bubulcos, 
Nobile mansueti cessit Chironis in antrum, 
Irriguos inter saltus frondosaque tecta, 
Peneium prope rivum : ibi saepe sub ilice nigra, 
Ad citharae strcpitum, blanda prece victus amici, 
Exilii duros lenibat voce labores. 



^ 



^ 



LATIN POEMS. 617 



Turn neque ripa suo, barathro nee fixa sub imo 
Saxa stetere loco ; nutat Trachinia rupes, 
Nee scntit solitas, immania pondera, silvas ; 
Emoteque suis properant de eollibus orni, 
Muleenturque novo maculosi carmine lynces. 
Diis dileete senex ! te Jupiter Equus oportet 
Naseentem et miti lustrarit lumine Phoebus, 
Atlantisque nepos ; neque enim nisi charus ab ortu 
Diis superis poterit magno favisse poetje. 
Hinc longaeva tibi lento sub flore senectus 
Vernat, et vEsonios lucratur vivida fuses, 
Nondum deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, 
Ingeniumque vigens, et adultum mentis acumen. 
O mihi si mea sors talem concedat amicum, 
Phoebasos decorasse viros qui tarn bene norit, 
Siquando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges, 
Arturumque etiam sub tcrris bella moventem, 
Aut dicam invictas sociali foedere mens^e 
Magnanimos Heroas, et (O modo spiritus adsit) 
Frangam Saxonicas Britonum sub Marte phalanges ! 
Tandem, ubi, non tacitae permensus tempora vitae, 
Annorumque satur, eineri sua jura relinquam, 
Ille mihi Iccto madidis astaret ocellis ; 
Astanti sat erit si dicam, " Sim tibi cura:;;" 
Ille meos artus, liventi morte solutos, 
Curaret parva componi molliter urna :" 
Forsitan et nostro ducat de marmore vultus, 
Neetens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri 
Fronde comas ; et ego secura pace quiescam. 
Turn quoque, si qua fidas, si prai^mia certa bonorum. 
Ipse ego, ccelicolum semotus in sethera divum., 
Quo labor et mens pura vehunt atque ignea virtus, 
Secret! ha,x aliqua mundi de parte videbo 
(Quantum fata sinunt), et tota mente sereniim 
Ridens purpureo sufifundar lumine vultus, 
Et simul sethereo plaudam mihi lastus Ol3^mpo. 



^ 



6i8 LATIN POEMS. 

EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 

ARGUMENTUM. 
Thyrsis et Damon, ejusdem vicinioe pastores, eadem studia sequnti, a pueriliaamici erant, 
ut qui plurimum. TliYRSlS animi causii profectus peregre de obitu Damonis nunciiim 
accepit. Domum postea reversus, et rem ita esse comperto, se suamque solitudinem hoc 
caimine deplorat. Damonis autem sub persona hie intelligiiur Carolus Deodatus, ex 
urbe Hetrurias Luca patcrno genere oriundus, csetera Anglus; ingenio, doctrinii, clarissi- 
misque cseteris virtutibis, dum viveret, juvenis egregius. 

HiMERiDES Nymphse (nam vos et Daphnin et Hylan, 
Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis) 
Dicite Sicelicum Thamesina per oppida carmen : 
Quas miser effudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, 
Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 
Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, nemorumque recessus, 
Dum sibi praereptum queritur Damona, neque altam 
Lectibus exemit noctcm, loca sola pererrans. 
Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, 
Et totidem flavas numerabant liorrca messes, 
Ex quo summa dies tulerat Damona sub umbras, 
Nee dum aderat Thyrsis ; pastorem scihcet ilium 
Dulcis amor Musae Thusca retincbat in urbe. 
Ast ubi mens expleta domum pecorisque relicti 
Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo, 
Tum vero amissum, tum denique, sentit amicum, 
Co^pit et immensum sic exonerare dolorem : — 

" Itc domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Hei mihi! quae terris, quse dicam numina ca^lo, 
Postquam te immiti rapuerunt funere, Damon? 
Siccine nos linquis? tua sic sine nomine virtus 
Ibit, et obscuris numcro sociabitur umbris? 
At non illc animas virga qui dividit aurea 
Ista velit, dignumque tui te ducat in agmen, 
Ignavumque procul pecus arccat omne silentum. 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Quicquid erit, certe nisi me lupus ante videbit, 
Indeplorato non comminuere sepulchro, 
Constabitque tuus tibi honos, longi^imque vigabit 



(b 

LATIN POEMS. 619 

Inter pastores. Illi tibi vota secundo 
Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicere laudes, 
Gaudebunt, dum rura Pales, dum Faunus aniabit; 
Si quid id est, priscamque fidem coluisse, piumque, 
Palladiasque artes, sociumque habuisse canorum. 

" Ite donium inpasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni, 
Haec tibi certa manent, tibi erunt hsec praemia, Damon. 
At mihi quid tandem fiet modo? quis miJii fidus 
Haerebit lateri comes, ut tu saepe solebas. 
Frigoribus duris, ct per loca freta jjruinis, 
Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibus herbis, 
Sive opus in magnos fuit eminus ire leones 
Aut avidos terrere lupos pragsepibus altis ? 
Quis fando sopire diem cantuque solebit ? 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Pectora cui crcdam ? quis me lenire docebit 
Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem 
Dulcibus alloquiis, grato cum sibilat igni 
Molle pirum, et nucibus strepitat focus, at malus Auster 
Miscet cuncta foris, et desuper intonat ulmo ? 

" Ite domum impasti; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Aut aestate, dies medio dum vertitur axe, 
Cum Pan aesculea somnum capit abditus umbra, 
Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia Npmphae, 
Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colonus, 
Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis tum mihi risus, 
Cecropiosque sales referet, cultosque lepores ? 

" Ite domum impasti; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
At jam solus agros, jam pascua solus oberro, 
Sicubi ramosae densantur vallibus umbras ; 
Hie serum expecto ; supra caput imber et Eurus 
Triste sonant, fracta^que agitata cepuscula silvas. 

" Ite domum impasti; dommo jam non vacat, agni. 
Heu ! quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis 
Involvuntur, et ipsa situ seges alta fatiscit! 
Innuba neglecto marcescit et uva racemo, 

^ ^ 



.a—— -^ 

620 LATIN POEMS. 

Nee myrteta juvant; ovium quoque tasdet, at illse 
Mcerent, inque suiim convcrtunt ora magistrum. 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Alphesiboeus ad ornos, 
Ad salices /Egon ad flumina pulcher Am.yntas : 
' Hie gclidi fontes, hie illita gramina musco, 
Hie Zyphii, hie plaeidas interstrepit arbutus undas.' 
Ista eaiiunt surdo; frutiees ego naetus abibam. 

" Ite domum impasti; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Mopsus ud lioee, nam me redeuntem forte notarat 
(Et callcbat avium linguas et sidera Mopsus), 
' Thyrsi, quid hoe?' dixit; ' qua; te eoquit improbabilis ? 
Aut te perdit amor, aut te male faseinat astrum; 
Saturni grave saepe fuit pastoribus astrum, 
Intimaque obliquo figit praseordia plumbo,' 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Tvlirantur nymphae, et ' Quid te, Thyrsi, futurum est? 
Quid tibi vis ?' aiunt : ' non hcec solet esse juventa3 
Nubilafrons, oculiquc truces, vultusque severi : 
Ilia choros, lususque leves, et semper amorem 
Jure petit ; bis ille miser qui serus amavit.' 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni- 
Venit Hyas, Dryopeque, et filia Baucidis vEgle, 
Docta modos, citharoeque scicns, sed perdita fastu ; 
Vcnit Idumanii Chloris vicina fluent! : 
Nil me blanditias, nil me solantia verba, 
Nil me si quid adest movet, aut spes ulla futuri. 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni, 
Hei mihi ! quam similes ludunt per prata juvenci, 
Omncs unanimi sccum sibi lege sodales ! 
Nee magis hunc alio quisquam seccrnit amicum 
Dc grege ; sic densi veniunt ad pabula thoes, 
Inque vieem hirsuti paribus junguntur onagri : 
Lex eadem pelagi; deserto in littore Proteus 
Agmina phocarum numerat : vilisque volucrum 
Passer habet semper (juieum sit, et omnia cireum 



LATIN POEMS. 621 

Farra libens volitet, sero sua tecta revisens ; 
Quern si sors letho objecit, seu milvus adunco 
Fata tulit rostro, seu stravit arundine fossor, 
Protinus ille alium socio petit inde volatu. 
Nos durum genus, et diris exercita fatis 
Gens, homines, aliena animis, et pectore discors ; 
Vix sibi quisque parem de millibus invenit unum ; 
Aut, si sors dederit tandem non aspera votis, 
Ilium inopina dies, qua non speraveris hora, 
Surripit, asternum linquens in snacula damnum. 

"Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni, 
Heu ! quis me ignotas traxit vagus error in oras 
Ire per aereas rupes, Alpemque nivosam ? 
Ecquid erat tanti Romam vidisse sepultam 
(Quamvis ilia foret, qualem dum viseret olim 
Tityrus ipse suas et oves et rura reliquit), 
Ut te tam dulci possem caruisse sodale, 
Possem tot maria alta, tot interponere montes, 
Tot silvas, tot saxa tibi, fluviosque sonantes ? 
Ah! certe extremum licuisset tangere dextram, 
Et bene compositos placide morientis ocellos, 
Et dixisse * Vale ! nostri memor ibis ad astra.' 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminisse pigebit, 
Pastores Thusci, Musis operata juventus, 
Plic Charis, atque Lepos ; et Thuscus tu quoque Damon, 
Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe. 
O ego quantus cram, gclidi cum stratus ad Arni 
Murmura, populeumque ncmus, qua mollior herba, 
Carpcre nunc violas, nunc summas carpere myrtos, 
Et potui Lycidie certantem audire IMcnalcam ! 
Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum ; nee puto multum 
Displicui ; nam sunt et apud me munera vestra, 
Fiscellie, calathique, et cerea vincla cicutas : 
Quin et nostra suas docuerunt nomina fagos 
Et Datis et Francinus ; erant ct vocibus ambo 



a ^ 

622 ' LATIN POEMS. 

Et studiis noti, Lydorum sanguinis ambo 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 

Haec mihi turn leeto dictabat roscida luna, 

Dum solus teneros claudebum cratibus hoedos. 

Ah ! quoties dixi, cum te cinis atcr habebat, 

' Nunc canit, aut Icpori nunc tendit retia Damon ; 

Vimina nunc texit varios sibi quod sit in usus ;' 

Et qua3 turn facili sperabam mente futura 

Arripui voto levis, et pr?esentia finxi. 

' Heus bone! numquid agis? nisi te quid forte retardat, 

Imus, ct arguta paulum rccubamus in umbra, 

Aut ad aquas Colni, aut ubi jugera Cassibelauni ? 

Tu mihi pcrcurres medicos, tua'gramina, succos, 

Helleborumque, humilesque crocos, foHumque hyacinthi, 

Quasque habet ista palus herbas, artesque medentum.' 

Ah ! pcrcant herbae, pereant artesque medentum, 

Gramina, postquam ipsi nil profecere magistro ! 

Ipse etiam — nam nescio quid mihi grande sonabat 

Fistula — ab undccima jam lux est altera noctc — 

Et turn forte novis admoram labra cicutis : 

Dissiluere tamen, rupta compage, nee ultra 

Ferre graves potuere sonos : dubito quoquc no sim 

Turgidulus; tamcn ct referam; vos cedite, sylvae. 
" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 

Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per aequora puppes 

Dicam, ct Pandrasidos regnum vetus Inogeni^, 

Brennumque Arviragumque duces, priscumque Belinum, 

Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos ; 

Turn gravidam Arturo fatali fraude logernen ; 

Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois arma, 

Merlini dolus. O, mihi tum si vita supersit, 

Tu procul annosa pendebis fistula, pinu 

Multum oblita mihi, aut patriis mutata Camoenis 

Brittonicum strides ! Quidenim? omnia non licet uni, 

Non sperasse uni licet omnia; mi satis ampla 

Merces, ct mihi grande decus (sim ignotus in aevuni 

4 —^ 



f — : ' — -6b 

LATIN POEMS. 623 

Turn licet, externo penitusque inglorius orbi), 

Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor Alauni, 

Vorticibusque frequens Abra, et nemus omne Treantse, 

Et Thamesis meus ante omnes, et fusca metallis 

Tamara, et extremis me discant Orcades undis. 

" Ite domum impasti ; domino jam non vacat, agni. 

Hjec tibi servabam lenta sub corticc lauri, 

Hc^c, et plura simul; turn qua} mihi procula Mansus, 

JMansus, Chalcidicae non ultima gloria ripse, 

Bina dedit, mirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, 

Et circum gemino caelaverat argumcnto. 

In medio Rubri Maris unda, et odoriferum ver, 

Littora longa Arabum, et sudantes balsama sylvse 

Has inter Phoenix, divina avis, unica terris, 

Casrulcum fulgens diversicoloribus alis, 

Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis ; 

Parte alia polus omnipatens, et magnus Olympus : 

Quis putet? hie quoque Amor, pictteque in nube pharetrce, 

Arma corusca, faces, et spicula tincta pyropo ; 

Nee tenuesanimas, pectusque ignobile vulgi, 

Hinc ferit; at, circum flammantia lumina torquens, 

Semper in erectum spargit sua tela per orbes 

Impiger, et pronos nunquam collimat ad ictus: 

Hinc mentes ardere sacrze, formaeque deorum. 

•'Tu quoque in his — nee me fallit spes lubrica, Damon— 
Tu quoque in his certe es ; nam quo tugi dulcis abiret 
Sanctaque simplicitas ? nam quo tua Candida virtus? 
Nee te Lethaeo fas quaesivisse sub Oreo ; 
Nee tibi conveniunt lacrymae, nee flebimus ultra. 
Ite procul, lacrymae ; purum colit £ethera Damon, 
^thera purus habet, pluvium pede reppulit arcum ; 
Heroumque animas inter, divosquc perennes, 
^thereos haurit latices et gaudia potat 
Ore sacro. Quin tu, cash post jura recepta, 
Dexter ades, placidusque fave, quicunque vocaris ; 
Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive sequior audis 



^ 



-4^ 



f~ "^ -^ 



624 LATIN POEMS. 

DiODOTUS, quo te divino nomine cuncti 
Caelicolae norint sylvisque vocabcre Damon. 
Quod tibi purpureus pudor, et sine labe juventus 
Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata voluptas, 
En! etiani tibi virginei servantur honores ! 
Ipse, caput nitidum cinctus rutilante corona, 
Laetaque frondentis gestans umbracula palm^e, 
yEternum perages immortalcs hymenaeos, 
Cantus ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis, 
Festa Siona^o bacchantur ct Orgia thyrso." 



Jen. 23, 1646. 
AD JOANNEM ROUSIUM, 

OXONIENSIS ACADEMLE BIBLIOTHECARIUM. 

De libro Poemattan amisso, quern ilk sibi denuo mitti poslulabat, ut citm aids nostra tit 
Dibllolhecd Publica reponerct, Ode. 

Ode tribus constat Strophis, totidemque Antistrophis, una demum Epodo clausis ; quas, 
tametsi omnes nee versuum numero nee certis ubique colis cxacte respondeant, ita tair.tn 
secuinnis,commodc: legend! potius quam ad antiques concinendimodos ralionem spectanles. 
Alioquin hoc genus rectius fortasse dici monostrophkum debuerat. Metra partim sunt Kari 
ayifnv partim orroAeAv/ntia. Phaleucia qucB sunt spond.ieum terlio loco bis admittunt, quod 
idem in secundo loco Catullus ab libitum fecit. 

STROPHE I. 

Gemelle cultu simplici gaudcns liber, 

Fronde licet gemina, 

Munditieque nitcns non operosa, 

Quam manus attulit 

Juvenilis olim 

Scdula, tamen baud nimii poetDB ; 

Dum vagus Ausonias nunc per umbras, 

Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit, 

Insons populi, barbitoque devius 

Indulsit patrio, mox itidcm pectine Daunio 

Longinquum intonuit melos 

Vicinis, et humum vix tetigit pede : 

^ ^ 



LATIN POEMS. 625 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Quis te, parve liber, quis te fratribus 

Subduxit reliquis dolo, 

Cum tu missus ab urbe, 

Docto jugiter obsecrante amico, 

Illustre tendebas iter 

Thamesis ad incunabula 

CoBrulei patris, 

Pontes ubi limpidi 

Aonidum, thyasusque sacer, 

Orbi notus per immensos 

Temporum lapsus redeunte ccelo, 

Celeberquc futurus in aevum ? 

STROPHE 2. 

Modo quis deus, aut editus deo, 

Pristinam gentis miseratus indolem. 

(Si satis noxas luimus priores, 

Mollique luxu degener otium) 

Tollat nefandos civium tumultus, 

Almaque revocet studia sanctus, 

Et relegatas sine sede Musas 

Jam pene totis finibus Angligeniam, 

Immundasque volucres 

Unguibus imminentes 

Figat Apollinea pharetra, 

Phineamque abigat pestem procul amne Pegaseo ? 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Quin tu, libelle nuntii licet mala 
Fide, vel oscitantia, 
Semel erraveris agmine fratrum, 
Seu quis te teneat specus, 
Seu qua te latebra, forsan unde vili 
Callo tereris institoris insulsi, 
Lastare felix ; en! iterum tibi 
40 

^ ^ 



^ -Qp 

626 LATIN POEMS. 

Spes nova fulget posse profundam 
Fugere Lethen, vehique superam 
In Jovis aulam remige penna : 

STROPHE 3. 
Nam te Roiisius sui 
Optat peculi numeroque justo 
Sibi poUicitum queritur abesse, 
Rogatque venias ille, cujus inclyta 
Sunt data virum monumenta curae ; 
Teque adytis etiam sacris 
Voluit reponi, quibus et ipse praesidet 
^ternorum operum custos fidelis, 
Qusestorque gazae nobilioris 
Quam cui proefuit Ion, 
Clarus Erechtheides, 
Opulenta dei per templa parentis, 
Fulvosque tripodas, donaque Delphica, 
Ion Actsea genitus Creusa. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

Ergo tu visere lucos 

Musarum ibis amoenos ; 

Diamque Phoebi rursus ibis in domum 

Oxonia quam valle colit, 

Delo posthabita, 

Bifidoque Parnassi jugo ; 

Ibis honestus, 

Postquam egregiam tu quoque sortem 

Nactus abis, dextri prece sollicitatus amici. 

lUic legeris inter alta nomina 

Authorum, Graiae simul et Latinse 

Antiqua gentis lumina et verum decus. 

EPODOS. 

Vos tandem baud vacui mei labores, 
Quicquid hoc sterile fudit ingenium, 

^ -e 



^ 



LATIN POEMS. 627 

Jam sero placidam sperare jubeo 

Perfunctam invidia requiem, sedesque beatas 

Quas bonus Hermes 

Et tutela dabic solers Roiisi, 

Quo neque lingua procax vulgi penetrabit, atque longe 

Turba legentum prava facesset ; 

At ultimi nepotes 

Et cordatior aetas 

Judicia rebus aequiora forsitan 

Adhibebit integro sinu. 

Turn, livore sepulto, 

Si quid meremur sana posteritas sciet, 

Roiisio favente. 

IN SALMASII HUNDREDAM. * 

Quis expsdivit Salmasio suam Hundredam.^ 
Picamque docuit verba nostra conari ? 
Magister artis venter, et Jacobasi 
Centum exulantis viscera marsupii regis. 
Quod si dolosi spes refulserit nummi, 
Ipse, Antichri.sti qui modo primatum Papae 
Minatus uno est dissipare sufflatu, 
Cantabit ultro Cardinalitium melos. 

IN SALMASIUM. 
Gaudete, scombri, et quicquid est piscium salo. 
Qui frigida hieme incolitis algentes freta ! 
Vestrum misertus ille Salmasius Eques 
Bonus amicire nuditatem cogitat; 
Chartaeque largus apparat papyrinos 
Vobis cucullos, praeferentes Claudii 
Insignia, nomenque et decus, Salmasii; 
Gestetis ut per omne cetarium forum 
Equitis clientes, scriniis mungentium 
Cubito virorum, et capsulis, gratissimos. 

THE END. 



Lb{^r'30 



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